Miraculous Ladybug: The Lady and The Prince (Cinderella AU)
by Pan-Tastique
Summary: When the King throws a great ball in honour of his son's eighteenth birthday, the boy is tasked to find a wife among those invited. He is allowed to invite one lady of his choice himself - and that girl happens to be a commoner. Both are met with a godlike creature who accompanies them to the ball; at midnight, the creatures' powers fade. What will happen when midnight strikes?
1. Chapter 1: The Prince and the Commoner

**Chapter One**

 **The Prince and the Commoner**

Once upon a time, long ago, the kingdom of Paris was ruled by a strong King. He had one son, the young Crown Prince, whom the King prized very much.

The King longed for his son to choose a Princess to marry, but the Prince didn't seem interested in the fine ladies his father let him meet at all. Now, the Prince's eighteenth birthday was merely a year away, and the King was getting worried.

His son needed to find a wife – how else would the kingdom proceed to thrive? When he became king, the Prince would need a descendant to pass the kingdom on to.

In hopes of helping his son find a suitable wife, the King gave his staff orders to prepare a great ball in honour of the Prince's eighteenth birthday – and told them to make sure every young lady of nobility in the area was invited.

The King sighed. His son was stubborn; he hoped that the Prince would agree with this compromise. The King would much rather choose a lady whom _he_ deemed a suitable Queen, but he knew the Prince would never marry someone he didn't choose. But, as long as the girl was nobility or royalty, the King didn't mind whom his son would choose.

He called his son to the throne room, to announce the news of the ball – and give his son a present.

The guards opened the massive, oak wooden doors, and a young man entered the throne room. His hair was sandy blonde and brushed in a way that clearly showed an attempt to make it look tidy and neat – the boy's emerald green eyes seemed happy, but they showed signs of worry – the Prince knew that whenever his father called him to the throne room instead of having one of the King's advisers speak in his name, it often meant the King wished to announce _another_ rule the Prince had no choice but to obey.

"You wish to see me, Father?" the Prince asked, bowing down low as soon as he'd reached the steps that lead to the throne. His neat, white suit seemed to glitter in the light of the chandeliers.

"Adrien," the King said, as he stood up from his chair. "I called you to bring you good news."

Adrien looked up at his father. "And that is?" he said, straightening his back.

The King smiled wryly. "As you probably know, your eighteenth birthday will soon be upon us," he said as he descended the steps to approach his son. If you didn't know the two were father and son, you might be surprised when you heard they were; where Adrien's face was soft and kind, the King's face was long, with sharp edges. His hair was very blonde, near pure white, always combed back tightly. His eyes were grey and cold; the King always had a stern aura surrounding him.

The King grabbed his son firmly by the shoulders and smiled. "Son," he said, "to honour the special event that is the day you become a man, I've decided to throw a grand ball. There will be many fine young ladies for you to speak to and dance with; I'd like you to choose one of these women as your bride."

Adrien wanted to open his mouth, but his father halted his attempt with a simple finger to his lips. "Don't. I wasn't finished." He cleared his throat and proceeded to speak, removing his other hand (the one that wasn't at his lips) from his son's shoulder. "Now, I understand my men may miss someone while inviting them, and thus I'd like you to go out into our kingdom and find a girl – you know what kind of girl, I believe this is not in need of discussion, so I'll leave it at that – whom you'd like to invite to the ball." The King moved his hand to the inside of his robes, as if he was reaching for something underneath the belt around his middle – a sword?

"When you find her, give her this." The King handed Adrien an envelope, sealed with a golden version of the kingdom's seal. "A royal invitation, handed to her by the Prince himself – it'll impress her; it is important that we as Kings show that we have authority; you will make the girl feel special by giving her a personal invitation."

As Adrien took the invitation from his father, the King held back for a split second to catch his son's attention. "But do make sure she's the _right_ girl," he said. "A commoner has no class, and is not fit to rule. They don't know how."

Adrien gave his father a small nod, the look in his eyes dull. "Yes, Father," he said, "I will." He'd originally wanted to protest against the idea of attending a ball, especially if it were a ball all about him, but knowing his father, the young Prince had little to no choice. He took the invitation with him as he left the throne room, planning to search the city for the perfect girl later that afternoon.

 _If_ he'd even be able to find the perfect girl, that was.

Meanwhile, in the city of Paris, a small bakery had just opened up shop that morning, and customers were coming and going. Marinette, the baker's daughter, had been tasked with making deliveries – mostly to the richer folks in town, who could afford to have their bread and baked goods delivered to their doorstep.

While Marinette generally had no problem delivering the goods her parents made, she _despised_ having to go to one particular house; the home of Governor Bourgeois. And the Governor himself wasn't even the problem in that story; Governor Bourgeois was one of the kindest noblemen in the city – some even called him a bit of a coward. The ones who were always causing Marinette and her deliveries trouble were the Governor's daughter and her handmaiden, Chloé and Sabrina.

Whenever she came along to make a delivery, Chloé and Sabrina would always make sure to remind Marinette of her status as a commoner. The two girls strongly believed commoners were nothing more than a tool to make the life of nobility easier, and that Marinette was their tool.

Though Marinette tried her best to ignore the girls, considering the fact that she _was_ a commoner and that if Chloé were to make a complaint with her father Marinette's _own_ father would probably wind up in trouble, it wasn't always easy. Every now and then, she would respond to the girls' remarks, who then – you guessed it – would go cry at Papa Governor. Luckily for Marinette, the man had taken a liking toward the poor baker's daughter, and often let her off with nothing but a 'stern talking to' and a 'warning'; Chloé didn't seem the least pleased whenever this happened.

And today was one of those days.

Marinette had made her way to the large property that belonged to the Bourgeois family, when she was stopped in her tracks by a blonde-haired girl in a yellow dress; her blue eyes were spouting fire. Behind her stood a red-haired girl in a faded purple maiden's dress; she didn't appear quite as furious as her mistress, but was obviously trying her very best to pretend to be so.

"What are you doing on my land?" Chloé sneered at the girl with the black hair standing in front of her. Marinette's hair was always surprisingly neat; she'd usually wear it in pigtails, but sometimes she liked to tie just the top layer back, letting everything else fall loose, just brushing her shoulders.

Marinette wasn't the least impressed by Chloé's outburst; her blue eyes remained cold as she responded, "That's none of your business, Chloé; I'm here for business with your father, not with you. I mean – you didn't pay for this, did you?" She slightly lifted up the basked of bread she was carrying.

"Well," Chloé said, crossing her arms defensively, "I would if I could, but Daddy's in charge of the money. And besides, at least I don't have to work for my money, unlike you, common baker's girl!" She obviously hadn't thought her sentence through before saying it, causing her sentence to fall apart mid-way into some whiny child's tantrum; Marinette had to do her very best not to laugh or chuckle, and hid the smile that crept up her lips behind a small hand.

Unfortunately, Marinette's amusement hadn't gone unnoticed.

"What's with that attitude, peasant?" Chloé sneered, wrinkling her nose. "What's so funny?"

Marinette shrugged. "Nothing," she said. "It's just... you. The way you always act like you have some kind of authority, while in realty, you have no clue what you're doing."

Chloé was furious; she tensed up and bared her teeth at Marinette. "That's no way to talk to a lady!" Sabrina yelled from behind her mistress, though her voice wasn't very confident.

"Why, you..." Chloé growled; suddenly, her hand moved backwards, and she slapped the top of the pile of bread out of Marinette's basket; the bread fell out of the basket, bouncing into the mud just beside the pathway that lead to the mansion.

"Why did you do that!?" Marinette complained, kneeling down to pick up the already ruined bread – she'd have to go back to the bakery for replacements.

"Because that's what you get," Chloé said, her face smug. "Oh, poor Marinette. A commoner girl... your family probably has to eat that muddy bread now to survive, huh?"

Marinette ceased to pick up the bread to glare at Chloé. She, however, proceeded to mock Marinette.

"Well, that's too bad," Chloé said. "If only you hadn't been so poor, huh? Perhaps you would've been invited to the greatest event of the year..."

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "What event? What do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard?" Sabrina said. "The King is throwing the Prince a ball in honour of his eighteenth birthday! And, since we're nobility, _we're_ invited."

Marinette, holding the loafs of bread underneath her arms, stood up; her expression was cold. "And that's probably the _only_ reason as to why you're invited," she said, the tone of her voice just as cold as the look in her eyes. "It's not as if you'd be invited because of your _charming_ personalities."

"And you would?" Chloé snapped, "I don't believe that for a minute."

"Well," Marinette shrugged, "it's not as if you have _proof_ that I wouldn't be invited just because my personality is kinder than yours." She smirked.

"Psh," Chloé scoffed. "And what would you wear? These rags? They'd kick you out of the castle the moment you arrive at the front gates! You look filthy!"

Marinette swallowed and looked down at her old dress; it was brown, with soft pink and white details. It was old and a bit ragged, but before Chloé mentioned it, Marinette thought it didn't look _that_ bad. Guess she was wrong.

Chloé smirked; she'd finally won the argument. "That's right."

"What's right?"

Marinette looked up, only to see both Chloé and Sabrina standing there, their mouths gaping; Marinette figured she should turn around and see what they were looking at, only to be met with the biggest surprise she possibly could've run into that day.

Marinette was looking right at a tall, young man dressed in a white suit covered by a green coat sitting on a horse; Marinette was quick to recognise the boy as the Prince.

"Your Majesty," the girl gasped; as she was about to curtsy, she was rudely pushed aside by Chloé and Sabrina – now all the bread lay soaking in the mud, and Marinette lay next to it.

"Ah, Your Majesty," Chloé said as both girls curtsied, "what brings you here today? Are you here for business with my father, or," she couldn't help but giggle as she got to the second half of her sentence, "are you by any chance here to see _me_?"

When Chloé got back upright out of her curtsy to face the prince, she wasn't pleased with what she saw; the Prince was frowning at her.

He quickly got off his horse, not caring about the mud that lay around him, and knelt to help the girl that had been thrown into the mud get herself back on her feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked her; she nodded. Then, the Prince turned his head to Chloé and Sabrina. "Why would you do that?"

"Well," Chloé said, obviously put off by the Prince's reaction but ready to defend herself, "that peasant girl was standing in our way. We wouldn't have been able to greet you properly otherwise."

"But look at what you did!" the Prince quickly scrambled to pick up some of the loafs that had been ruined by the mud. "This bread – no one can eat it anymore! She was supposed to deliver these to people; they're waiting for their food!" he quickly glanced at the girl, who nodded thankfully.

Chloé looked like she wanted to respond, her mouth half open and a blaming finger pointing at Marinette, but she quickly closed her mouth. What she was about to say either wasn't fit to say to a Prince, or she just had no idea _what_ to say anymore.

The Prince gave the girls one last disapproving look before turning to the girl next to him. He bent over to grab the basket out of the mud, tried to wipe it clean with his handkerchief (which then was returned carelessly to his chest pocket, dirt stains and all), and handed it to her.

"I'll refund the loss you made with this accident," he said. "You're the baker Dupain's daughter, aren't you?"

The girl nodded. "Yes," she said. "Thank you, Sire. Thank you for helping me."

The prince smiled at the girl. "It's alright," he said. "Now go home and get cleaned up, then when your father has finished baking new bread, deliver it. I will have my father's men visit your house with a sack of gold – they'll pay him what I promised you."

The girl curtsied. "Thank you, Sire."

She was about to say goodbye and walk away, when the Prince stopped her. "Wait," he said. "There's no need to thank me."

He quickly took out the envelope with the invitation, and placed it inside her basket. "This is for you," he said. "Open it when you get home. I'd like to see you again."

The girl smiled. "Thank you," she said. "I guess I'll go now."

"Wait," the Prince repeated himself. "May I at least know your name before you go?"

The girl turned beet red; she hadn't expected the Prince to ask this question. "Marinette, Sire," she said, dumbfounded.

"It was nice to meet you, Marinette," the Prince smiled. "My name is Adrien... but I think you already knew. Have a safe trip home."

"Thank you, Sire," Marinette said; she curtseyed, and rushed down the street.

The Prince watched her until she'd turned the corner and out of sight. It felt right to give the invitation away to such a sweet girl like Marinette. The King would probably disapprove, considering she was a commoner, but Marinette seemed like someone who worked hard, day in day out – Adrien felt like she deserved to have some fun.

He could hear the two astonished girls behind him bicker loudly about what had just happened, obviously questioning the Prince's ability to make reasonable choices, but he paid them no mind as he got on his horse and began making his way back to the castle; he stood behind his choice, and no one could make him change his mind. Not even his father.

Thinking of his father, seeing Marinette had brought Adrien an idea that had to do with the ball's dress code; he hoped his father would agree.


	2. Chapter 2: A Royal Invitation

**Chapter Two**

 **A Royal Invitation**

Marinette quickly made her way home. When she arrived there, she swiftly headed inside the bakery, past her mother and her customers, to the back, where her father was busy baking.

"Hello, Father," Marinette said, placing the basket on the table in the corner closest to the door, far away from the bread and dough – she'd have to properly clean that if she wanted to carry bread in it again.

"Hey, Pumpkin, you're back early," her father spoke; the broad-shouldered man had his back turned to his daughter as he worked. When he turned around, his smile quickly turned into a frown. "Gee. What happened?"

Marinette briefly looked down at her dress and shrugged with a crooked smile. "Uh, Chloé," she said. "The usual."

Her father sighed. "Oh dear," he said. "Well – go get yourself cleaned up. I'll see what I can do about those orders she messed up – give me a list when you're in better shape."

Marinette nodded at her father and was about to walk off when she noticed the letter in the basket and remembered the Prince's promise.

"Oh, Father!" she said, turning back into the bakery.

"Yes, Mari?" Marinette's father turned his head toward his daughter while kneading the dough. "What's the matter, kid?"

"Well," Marinette couldn't help but blush as she spoke – it was almost unreal. "While Chloé and Sabrina were pestering me, the Prince happened to ride by. He said he'd send someone to refund the orders Chloé ruined."

Her father gasped; Marinette felt as if her father didn't quite believe her. "No way," he said. "Will he really?"

Marinette shrugged and smiled. "He said he would," she said. "So – I do certainly hope he keeps his word."

Her father smiled. "Oh, dear Marinette," he said. "If he is a man of honour, he will.

"No doubt about that."

Marinette nodded, and quickly made her way to the house to clean herself up – remembering to take the Prince's letter with her.

She untied her hair and washed it with water she'd got from the well in the backyard – it was summer, so Marinette didn't mind washing her hair in the yard. The summer temperatures in Paris weren't always pleasurable, but today, the weather was surprisingly nice.

Today in general was surprisingly nice.

After getting dressed again, Marinette decided to put warm water in the tub and wash her stained dress herself instead of letting her mother take care of it later that night – with mud, it was best not to wait. Marinette didn't have many dresses she liked as much as this one; the comment Chloé had made about it wasn't going to change that, and she certainly didn't want to lose her favourite dress to mud stains.

When she'd hung up the dress to dry (the mud had come out fairly well – some of the stains had faded enough to match the older stains of dough and paint), Marinette decided to finally take time to read the letter the Prince had left in her basket – in the privacy of her own room.

She almost felt bad for breaking the seal; the golden piece of wax was decorated with three butterflies and a lilac ribbon. But the letter contained within the envelope, was far better than the seal that hid it from sight.

" _Fair lady_ ,

 _If you happen to be the recipient of this invitation, then you received it from His Royal Highness Prince Adrien. He would like to invite you to the ball in honour of his eighteenth birthday - the Prince hopes you accept his invitation._

 _The ball commences at 9 PM, July twenty-third._

 _The Prince hopes to see you at the ball. Make sure not to forget to bring the invitation enclosed._

 _Yours Truly,_

 _His Royal Highnesses_ _The King and his son, the Prince_ "

Marinette let out a gasp, nearly dropping the letter to the ground. The Prince had chosen _her_? Out of all the girls in the kingdom, the Prince had chosen to invite a _commoner_ to the ball?

Though she couldn't help but feel honoured, the invitation had also left Marinette confused. Why would the Prince choose a commoner? After all, it wasn't as if she'd have any chance with him anyway. Was this just a joke?

Had it even been the real Prince? It was possible Chloé and Sabrina had just played a prank on Marinette. It wouldn't have been the first time they'd tried – just the first time they'd succeeded.

Even if the invitation was real – and Marinette truly hoped it was – what would Marinette wear to the ball? She loved to mend and make her own clothes – that's why her dresses lasted so long.

However, she had no money to buy silk or any other kind of luxurious fabric to make a dress out of – one that would not stand out from the expensive garments the ladies of nobility would be wearing to the ball, that is. And besides, today was July twentieth. There'd be no way Marinette would be able to work hard enough to scrape enough money for a dress together in just three days.

Marinette sighed and left the letter and the invitation on her bed as she went to report the lost orders to her father. It had been a nice gesture of the Prince, and Marinette truly felt honoured – but there was no way Marinette would make it to the ball, and thus she had no use for the invitation.

Chloé was right; Marinette was simply nothing but a commoner. And that would never change, no matter how hard Marinette tried.

The Prince had returned to the castle, only to be instantly met with disappointment – his father refused to meet him to speak about the ball.

He had spoken about his idea to his tutor, Nathalie, but he doubted she'd be able to tell his father if _he_ wasn't able to do so. For some reason, even the King's advisors weren't available to listen to the Prince's ideas at that moment – it was as if the entire castle was deserted.

There _was_ an upside to this, however. There was no one around, and thus, there was no one to bother the Prince. He was free to do what he wanted – at least for now.

The Prince decided to stay in his room for the remainder of the day, which he might've considered to be a long time by the end of it, but the young Prince had something on his mind.

That girl. Or, _those_ girls. Adrien couldn't help but wonder – did Chloé and her servant always treat that baker's girl like that? She seemed so kind... what did she do to deserve being pushed into the mud?

She, Marinette, was simply doing her job, and those two other girls prevented her from doing so.

Could people truly be like that? Adrien had never been out of the castle much – the King was very hesitant to let his son out, as if he was a Princess instead of a Prince.

Sure, the Prince had been allowed to come along on business trips and hunting parties, but he'd never gone out on his own like he had today. He'd never actually got to see what everyday life was like outside the castle.

The Prince remembered his father saying 'commoners are commoners for a reason', but Adrien didn't believe this was right, either. Commoners didn't deserve to be abused by nobility like that – the Prince knew who the two girls were, because the King was very close with Governor Bourgeois – Adrien wished he could say the feeling was mutual with him and the Governor's daughter. _She_ seemed very fond of _him_ , but Adrien rather had her stay away from him as far as possible. And the events that occurred today only added to that; Chloé Bourgeois was considerably the least likeable person the Prince had ever met – for Adrien, even having dinner with just his father at the table was more comfortable than spending half an hour with Chloé.

The Prince let out a sigh. Suddenly, he remembered the promise he'd made to the girl he'd helped – he'd promised Marinette he'd refund the baked goods Chloé had ruined. He'd made this promise not only because he felt Mr Dupain didn't deserve to lose money because some arrogant blonde brat had ruined his hard work, but also because the young Prince felt partially responsible for Chloé's actions, since she'd clearly done it because of him. ' _That peasant girl was standing in our way_. _We wouldn't have to greet you_ _properly_ _otherwise_.'

Adrien let out a sigh. Why did Chloé have to be like that? Just because her father was rich? That didn't make her any better than any commoner – if anything, it made her worse. But it didn't matter... she'd never admit it.

The Prince headed for his personal vault – if he took money from the Kingdom's fault, his father would find out, and Adrien had enough personal money anyway – it was not like he spent it, anyway. His father got him everything he wanted, just in hopes of appealing to his son. The man didn't realise he'd be far more appealing for the Prince if he'd just spend time with his only son.

The amount of gold the Prince got from his vault was probably more than the bread was worth, but he didn't mind. The baker's daughter would need a dress for the ball anyway.

If she even wanted to come at all.

He sneaked to the stables while carrying the bag of gold, saddling his horse himself – for some reason, even the _stable boy_ was nowhere to be found – and rode off to where Adrien believed the bakery was located.

Adrien found he had a bit of trouble trying to find the bakery, but he was lucky the townspeople were kind enough to give him directions when he asked – even if they only gave them because he was the Prince.

He'd arrived at just the right time; the bakery was nearly empty, and its owners were taking a short break from work. The Prince could walk right in without disturbing anyone.

"Excuse me," the Prince said as he approached the chubby, short-haired woman who was busy swiping the floor with a broom. Adrien guessed all those loafs of bread left quite the mess of crumbs on the floor every day. "Is Mr Tom Dupain here? The baker?"

The lady looked up from her sweeping work, letting out a gasp of surprise when she saw the fancily clad young man stand in the doorway of her bakery. "Oh my," she said. "Is he in trouble?"

The Prince quickly shook his head. "Oh, heavens no," he said. "Quite the contrary, actually."

The worry on the dark-haired woman's face quickly faded when she put away the broom, setting it against the wall she was standing closest to.

"Oh," she said. "You got me curious now, Sire."

As soon as the word came out of her mouth, Adrien realised what Mrs Dupain-Cheng was planning on doing next, and he quickly stopped her. "Please," he said, "there's no need to bow for me."

Mrs Dupain-Cheng was obviously put off by this; not bowing or curtsying before someone of royal stature almost felt like treason. Still, she gladly fulfilled the Prince's wish by not curtsying for him. "Alright, then," she said. "I guess you wish to see my husband, then?"

The Prince nodded briefly. "Yes, please."

The baker's wife nodded, couldn't help but dropping her shoulders in some sort of half-bow, and left to fetch her husband. As he waited, Adrien noticed something – or someone – enter his view, just in the corner of his eye.

It was the baker's daughter. Marinette. She appeared busy cleaning the wooden basket with a damp cloth; to Adrien's surprise, the girl appeared to be _enjoying_ her work.

It was a dirty job – almost some sort of punishment, but the girl did it while humming a tune. Adrien had to focus on the words to hear what she was actually singing, but he found himself pleasurably surprised.

"... _Porte bonheur, lady magique et lady chance._.."

Adrien found that the girl had a fairly decent singing voice, soft and humble in tone. She didn't even seem to notice he was there; he felt too shy to approach her – though part of him felt she'd be the one to shy away from him if he approached her.

The Prince was awoken from his thoughts by a deep voice that seemed to echo through the bakery. "I'm sorry to have left you waiting, Sire."

Upon hearing the word 'Sire', both Marinette and Adrien looked up. She noticed the Prince and hurried away, just as he caught her gaze. When she was gone, he sighed and turned to speak to the baker.

"It's no problem," the Prince dismissed Mr Dupain's apology. "I know you're busy. Besides, I don't mind waiting all that much."

The baker nodded, humbled by the Prince's generosity. Adrien could understand why these people responded that way – had it been his father, he would _not_ have been the least pleased with being left waiting.

"My daughter told me you'd be coming, Sire," Mr Dupain said. "Though at first I must admit I thought she was talking crazy." He smiled kindly, the bushy hazel brown moustache that hid most of his upper lip from view curling up as he did so. "And yet, here you are. I can't believe my eyes."

"Well, I'm here," the Prince said. "Alive and in person, Sir. I believe your daughter already informed you of the reason as to why I'm here?"

"She did," Mr Dupain nodded and sighed. "Poor kid. I just wish the Governor's daughter would leave her alone – but I guess there's nothing we can do."

Adrien's face went blank. "Hm. I'll talk to her."

Mr Dupain looked at the Prince; the baker wasn't sure if he was hearing all of this correctly. Was the Prince freely offering a couple of commoners service?

"I'll talk to the Governor's daughter," Adrien repeated. "I know her – she'll listen to me. She'll have to."

Mr Dupain was too surprised to even respond; he just nodded.

"Here," the Prince said, "the refund I – or Ms Bourgeois – owe you. I... I hope it's enough to cover your lost earnings.

"Please have a nice day, Mr Dupain." The Prince handed the baker the purple bag of gold, bowed briefly, and left.

On his way out, the Prince couldn't help but notice the baker's daughter carefully peeping around the corner. He smiled at her, and she smiled back at him – or, at least, he hoped what he saw was a smile.

Luckily for Adrien's hopes, Marinette was indeed smiling at him. She was smiling at the kind Prince who cared only for personality. She hoped that how she perceived him to be was how he truly was.


	3. Chapter 3: 'A Gift'

**Chapter Three**

 **'A Gift'**

When the Prince returned to the castle, he was met with a line of guards waiting for him at the gate. In front of the guards waited the head of the Royal Guard, whom Adrien had simply dubbed the 'Gorilla', due to the man's tall and broad stature.

He did not seem happy to see the young Prince arriving at the gates – the Gorilla rather saw the boy inside, where no harm could come to him.

Adrien nodded at the guards and quickly tried to pass them, but was unsuccessful. The Gorilla placed a rather firm hand on the Prince's shoulder and escorted him to the King's chambers, while the guards returned the Prince's horse to the stables.

The King was furious. "Adrien!" he shouted as the Gorilla left the boy at the door, shutting it behind him after the Prince had entered. "Where have you _been_?"

Adrien tried to maintain a straight face. "I had made a promise to someone, Father," he said. "We ought to keep our promises, no?"

The King offered his son confirmation through a small, stiff nod. "That's right."

The Prince returned his father's gesture. "And if I'm not wrong," he said, "the castle was nearly deserted when I returned earlier this morning, and of those left behind, no one could tell me what was going on or where you were."

Another nod. "Also correct," the King responded. "Many of the staff members, including myself, were busy preparing your birthday ball. It's in three days, and-"

"My birthday's in September, Father."

The King had finished his sentence, hardly even noticing the Prince's attempt to interrupt him.

"Excuse me?"

Adrien repeated himself, a little louder. "My birthday is in September, Father. It's only July. There's no need to rush this ball."

His father seemed to rather disagree. "I want you to have chosen your bride _before_ your birthday," he said stiffly. "You are to be married to her on that day. Timing couldn't be more perfect."

Adrien pursed his lips. He wanted to protest – two months was far too short to get to know someone he'd be spending the rest of his life with – let alone choosing that person based on just _one_ night. But, knowing his father, Adrien had no choice in the matter, and thus the Prince said, "Yes, Father."

His father nodded, less stiff this time. "Good," he said. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement." Then, as if desperate to change the subject into something more positive, the King said, "Nathalie told me you had something important to discuss with me? She said you had a marvellous idea that would add to the ball.

"Of course, I wish to hear that idea, too."

Adrien nodded and smiled. This was his moment! He would finally receive a favour from his father.

"Well," Adrien began enthusiastically, "I had this idea for the ball's theme." He waited; the King nodded, encouraging the Prince to go on.

"Okay, so basically I don't really care what my lady looks like or how rich she is," Adrien continued, "but I want to see which girls think the same of me. I wish for the ball's theme to be a masquerade; everyone's anonymous!" He paused again. "That way, I can choose a girl based on her personality – _and_ I won't be swarmed by girls all night."

"You wish to be anonymous as well?" the King suggested, raising an eyebrow. He was intrigued by this idea – and for more than just one reason.

Adrien nodded. "That's the idea," he said. "I want to be like everyone else."

The King frowned. "You're not like anyone else."

Adrien's face twisted; he'd gone too far. His father would reject the idea for sure now.

Luckily for the Prince, the King wasn't finished. "...But I do like your idea. I'll make sure all those invited receive the news."

The Prince nodded; Adrien was slightly worried Marinette wouldn't get the news – but then he remembered Chloé, and how she would love to rub it all in Marinette's face in detail – if only Chloé knew. "Thank you, Father." The boy bowed, preparing himself to leave; his father dismissed him, telling the Prince to go to his chamber.

It was not as if Adrien had anywhere else to go; his lessons with Nathalie didn't start until later that afternoon, and Adrien didn't feel like fencing. And the chance that the King would let the Prince go out horseback riding was a total zero. So, stay up in his chamber all day it was. Perhaps he could find something up there to keep himself busy.

Luckily, Adrien did not have to look far for adventure; it was on its way to him.

Marinette, her mood restored back to normal and no Chloé in sight, was making her way through town, making the deliveries she'd owed everyone since that morning.

The Governor had made sure his daughter stayed inside the second time Marinette came around, accepting the freshly-baked bread with gratitude.

Marinette also made a delivery to both the Lahiffe and Césaire houses – Marinette was glad to see Sir Lahiffe and his son home, since the man himself was a knight and his son his apprentice. Of course, they'd also received an invitation to the ball, to keep the peace. Several of the King's most trusted knights had received an invitation for the same reason.

Marinette was surprised to have a small bun of bread left when she assumed she'd finished her duties – there was one house left. A house Marinette had never visited before.

 _Fu Residence_ , Marinette read on the note her father had left with the bread. Both the name and the address that went with it were unfamiliar to her; Marinette feared she might get lost at first. But luckily, her destination was easier to find than she thought it would be.

Marinette headed over to the house, which didn't seem to stand out from the ones that surrounded it all that much – it was just a regular house. But who was the resident? 'Fu' didn't sound familiar to Marinette, despite having lived in Paris all seventeen years of her life. Was the man – or woman – a traveller?

Perhaps.

When Marinette knocked, it took a while before someone answered the door – and Marinette could immediately see why.

"Yes?"

The man was small and seemed frail, yet his brown eyes had a mischievous sparkle of youth in them. "Ah, Miss Dupain!"

"You know my name?" Marinette asked – in retrospect, it was obvious that the man knew her name.

"Of course," Mr Fu said. "Your father owns the bakery, right? Mr Dupain?"

Marinette nodded. "Oh, right. Here's your delivery, sir."

She handed the bun to the old man in front of her – as he took it from her, Marinette figured she and her father had to figure something out to wrap the baked goods in. That way, Chloé couldn't ruin them.

Mr Fu seemed thankful when Marinette handed him the bread. "Why, thank you," he said. "I'm afraid I don't have any money to pay you with, but there might be something else..." Mr Fu turned back into his house before Marinette could respond.

She waited for him to return, and when he did, he did so without the bread – but with a small box. Its shape was hexagonal, and it was made of dark red wood, with complex crimson patterns on the lid; despite the wooden material, the box's covering looked so smooth that it seemed to be made of velvet.

"Please," Mr Fu said. "Take this."

Marinettte took the box from the old man and couldn't help but look inside.

Inside the box was jewellery. Two earrings, to be in fact.

The earrings were round, red onyxes with small diamonds in the rims that kept the stones in place. The backs were made of carefully forged silver. However, the most interesting feature to the earrings to Marinette were the five black dots on both onyxes, making the stones looklike ladybugs' shells.

"Oh, my."

"They're quite the pretty pair, aren't they?"

Marinette looked up at Mr Fu; he offered her a kind smile. "Take them," he said, "they're yours now.

"I'm sure your father will let you have them."

Marinette opened her mouth with the intention to protest; she couldn't take these earrings – they were worth _far_ more than that simple ball of bread! To take them as payment didn't feel fair.

"Oh, you're worried about _me_?" Mr Fu smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously again. "Don't worry... those earrings are better off with you than they would be with me... perhaps you could wear them to a special occasion?" Again, that same twinkle. "Now, come, child, it's time for you to go home. Your father is waiting for you.

"If he asks, tell him the earrings were a gift."

Marinette slowly closed her mouth and nodded at the small old man in front of her. "Yes, sir. I will, sir."

She placed the box with the earrings in her basket, on top of the small pouch of coins that contained the earnings she'd collected from the other deliveries, and turned back from where she'd come from. Unbeknownst to her, Mr Fu watched Marinette with a smile.

When Adrien entered his own chambers, the first thing he noticed that someone had left something for him on the desk in his study. A note rested on the box, with nothing on it but ' _A gift_ ', written in careful handwriting. His curiosity piqued, Adrien decided to pick up the box for closer investigation; the box was small, hexagonal, dark red in colour and had a complex, crimson red pattern on the top. Adrien almost felt as if to open the box would be to disturb it, but that didn't stop him from carefully doing so anyway.

Inside the box lay a ring. It was black, with where normally a gemstone should have been, a green cat paw made of tiny jewels rested in place.

"Probably a gift from Father he didn't tell me about," Adrien said. "Perhaps I should... try it on for size?" He felt as if he was making excuses to put on the ring; he considered himself ridiculous for doing so, and took the ring, carefully putting it on his finger.

A perfect fit.

When Adrien let go of the ring to have a better look at it around his finger, he noticed the ring had changed; it was now a simple, silver ring, with no sign of a gemstone – or the cat pattern, for that matter.

Adrien spent some time looking at the changed ring in confusion. What had just happened?

"Hey, Kid! What do I gotta do to get some attention 'round here?"

Adrien let out a yelp, turning around and nearly tripping over his own feet. He looked up at whoever had startled him, his mouth falling open.

The man – Adrien assumed it was a man – was floating at least two feet in the air.

"Now, now, Kid," the man said, "there's no reason to act like that. It's not as if I'm here to hurt you."

The man had dark skin, which made his green eyes appear as if they were glowing – Adrien could hardly believe what he saw; the man's eyes were entirely green; there was nothing separating iris from eye whites. All was green. And his pupils? Black and striped, like a cat's.

His hair was black and messy, fluffing to the sides as if it was a cat's fluffy cheek fur. From the top of his head, cat ears seemed to sprout – and it seemed as if the man had whiskers.

The clothes the man – or creature – wore weren't half bad, however. A fancy black suit, with golden buttons and various other silver details. The back of the suit jacket was longer than the front.

"Who – who are you?" Adrien asked, furrowing his brow. "Why are you here?"

The man grinned; he had fangs. "Kid," he said, "the name's Plagg. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Plagg bowed as he introduced himself. "But – besides from Plagg, I'm also something else. A kwami."

"Don't you mean 'kami'?" Adrien said. Plagg frowned.

"I know what I am, thank you very much," he said. "No. I am a _kwami_. A kami is a god... I am more of a godparent. A guardian, you see."

Adrien raised an eyebrow. "Huh. But then... why are you here?"

"Why, I'm here for you of course," Plagg said, stretching his arms out with a broad grin on his face. "I mean – you don't seem to be very happy with how things are going right now, Kid."

Adrien's eyes flashed through the room, as if afraid to meet Plagg's. The kwami was right – Adrien was unhappy with the way things went in the castle. How his father never paid attention to him.

Plagg crossed his arms. "Seems like I'm right, huh?

"Listen, Kid. I was sent here because of you. You're special, and I know that because otherwise, you wouldn't be wearing that ring right now." He pointed a gloved finger at the ring around Adrien's finger; even through the black gloves, Adrien could tell that Plagg's nails were long and sharp. "Your name's Adrien, isn't it?"

Adrien nodded. "Yes," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself yet."

"That's fine," Plagg said, waving away Adrien's apologies. "Now... I'm going to explain the plan, but you'll have to get me some food while I go at it... I'm starving."

The kwami rose higher up, flying away from Adrien, toward the daytime living compartment of the Prince's chamber.

"Hey! Wait!" Adrien shouted, running after him. When he caught up with Plagg, the Prince found the kwami sitting on his couch.

"Well?" Plagg said, "I said I'm starving, Adrien! Can't you get us some food?"

"Well – what would you like?" Adrien said. The kwami turned to face Adrien.

"Cheese. Camembert."

Adrien let out a sigh. Great; all this cat-fairy wanted was the one kind of cheese Adrien absolutely could not stand.

"Fine," Adrien said. "I'll have the cooks bring some up here. But you'll tell me _exactly_ what's going on in return."

Plagg grinned and smiled. "Fine. Go get your cooks and then have a seat, kid."

When Plagg finally had got his cheese, he was more than happy to tell Adrien everything he wanted to know.

"Now, I heard there's going to be a party soon," Plagg said. "A... ball of some sort."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah... it's for my birthday."

Plagg smiled. "Called it.

"So, yeah. Party. Ball. Great stuff. But the reason why I'm here, is because there might be someone in Paris who'd want to start trouble at that ball."

"Who?" Adrien asked. "Chloé?"

Plagg raised his eyebrows; he had no idea who Chloé was. "No... all we know is that his name is the Hawk Moth. He's got control over one of my friends – one of us kwamis. He intends to capture us all and use us for his own plans. Of course, that's more difficult to do when our jewellery is with someone and thus constantly moving around rather than sitting in a box all the time."

Adrien considered this. "That's a good point. But why would he cause trouble at the ball?"

Plagg shrugged. "We believe the Hawk Moth has connections to the Royal Family, and thus will be attending the ball... He might think kidnapping the Prince will get him closer to the kwami's jewellery. And thus, nothing would be better than having the Prince unmask him." He grinned.

Adrien raised his hands in defence. "Wait – what?"

"Honestly, Kid," Plagg said sarcastically, "do you still not get it? The ball's theme's perfect for the Hawk Moth to appear. And it's perfect for us to go out to the ball.

"A kwami always hides their holder's identity... all I need to do is to get you dressed up in a nice suit, and you're good to go and find my friend."

Adrien breathed heavily. "I might have to consider this," he said. "I'm not sure if I can do this."

"Oh, don't worry," Plagg said. "You won't be out there alone.

"Kwamis always work in pairs."


	4. Chapter 4: Ladybug Princess

**Chapter Four**

 **A Ladybug Princess**

Marinette had taken the earrings home and succeeded in hiding them from her father's view – and his questions. She felt as if there was something mysterious about these earrings, and she wanted to find out what that mystery was all by herself.

The earrings looked normal, sitting in their dark velvet bedding, and yet still had something mystic about them; Marinette couldn't help herself but take the jewels out of their case, and carefully put them in her ears, replacing the rings her father had had her made with the ladybug earrings.

Marinette looked at the earrings in her old, faded mirror; she thought she was seeing things when all the red stones that were present in the earrings turned black.

"What the-?" Marinette mumbled, inspecting the earrings more closely. She was just about to take one of them out to see what had happened, when she was startled by the sound of a female voice coming from behind her.

"Do you like them? They suit you."

Marinette let out a small yelp as she turned, too quickly, tripping over her own feet and falling to the ground.

"Oh, my," the voice said, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Marinette scrambled to get to her feet, trying to get a glimpse of the feminine intruder as she got up; the first thing Marinette noticed that the woman – or at least, she _assumed_ it was a woman – who had startled her, appeared to be floating.

"You alright, dear?"

Marinette, back on her feet, took her time to take in the figure in front of her; the lady's skin was fair with a few dark birthmarks scattered over her legs and arms, and her clothes different shades of red; the balloon skirt of the lady's dress looked reminiscent of a ladybug shield. Her hair was short and poppy red, and the headdress she wore on top of it made it look as if she had antennae.

Was it _really_ a headdress? Marinette couldn't tell.

"Who – who are you?" Marinette mumbled. "How – how did you get in here?"

The mysterious lady smiled. "My name is Tikki," she said, "and I'm here to help you, my sweet Marinette. It is truly a pleasure to meet you...

"One look at you, and I already know you're the right lady for the job. Master fu has chosen wisely."

Marinette's mouth sank open. "I beg your pardon?"

Tikki smiled. "Allow me to introduce myself more properly," she said, "as my presence does require a _further_ explanation than just a name and a hello.

"You could see me as your Fairy Godmother, the one who will help you make it to the ball you've been invited to."

"Wait-" Marinette mumbled. "Fairy Godmother? Is this about those earrings?"

Tikki nodded. "It is," she said. "I figured you might be worried about what to wear to the ball, so I figured I should help you with that."

Marinette tilted her head in confusion. "I don't... get it. Are you magic?"

Tikki smiled and chuckled, obviously amused with the girl's confusion. "Yes. I am a Kwami, and my energy is connected to your earrings. Legend says that combining certain pieces of Miraculous Kwami Jewelry gives their wearer godlike strength."

Marinette touched one of her earrings for a brief moment, waiting for Tikki to continue her story.

"Now, there is a man, known as the Hawk Moth... he's managed to capture a Kwami... and I believe he intends to use her to capture the others." She paused. "Marinette, I need your help."

"But what can I do?" Marinette asked. "I'm just a normal girl, with a normal life."

Tikki smirked. "But there's something about you that no one knows yet... not even you.

"Don't worry. You won't have to face the Moth alone. Kwamis always work in pairs, and my friend will be waiting for you at the ball. Both your identities will be kept secret."

"But why – why me? The ball?"

Tikki shrugged. "Master Fu chose you. He deems you fit. As for the ball... the theme is a masquerade, and thus perfect for the Moth to hide behind a mask. We believe that he has connections to the Royal Family, making it easy for him to attend the ball unnoticed.

"He might attempt to kidnap someone of the royal family to ransom the Miraculouses from their holders."

Marinette swallowed. This sounded serious; she wasn't sure whether or not she'd be up to the task. "You want me – and this other person – to stop him?"

Tikki nodded gravely. "Yes, please. Liberate my friend from the Moth's evil clutches, and he will be left without power. Then, all will go back to normal.

"Do you think you can do it?"

Marinette bit her lip. "I... think?" she said. "I will try to help your friend. But I can't promise that I'll make it."

Tikki smiled and curtsied. "Thank you, Marinette," she said. "The ball commences in three days – I'll see you that night to discuss the final details – and send you off to the best night of your life."

Just as soon as she'd appeared, Tikki vanished, leaving Marinette in her room, completely stunned.

The days before the ball passed by quickly, and with every day that passed, Adrien grew more nervous. The fact that Plagg had basically not said another word since he explained what Adrien had to do on the night of the ball, didn't make things easier for the young Prince.

The King spent most of his time in his private chambers in the three days that led up to the ball – even more so than usual. It wasn't as if anyone in the castle cared – the King was known for being reserved. He didn't show his face often in the castle, unless it was in the throne room.

Even on the night of the ball, the King didn't show up all day, allowing Adrien and Plagg to prepare for the ball without being bothered by anyone.

Plagg told Adrien the basic plan he and is 'partner' had come up with – Adrien, disguised by Plagg's power, would mingle with the ball attendants and find Tikki's Chosen One – Plagg promised Adrien she'd be easy to find, though Adrien doubted the Kwami was actually right.

The Prince did feel excited to finally be able to act as if he wasn't a Prince with a list of responsibilities the length of the Champs-Élysees.

"It's almost time, Kid," Plagg said, watching the sunset. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Adrien said. "I'm ready alright."

Plagg turned away from the window, grinning when he saw the confident smirk on Adrien's face. "You know what to do. But remember - my powers will fade at _midnight_. After the clock strikes twelve, you're on your own."

Adrien nodded, took a deep breath, and bellowed,

" _Plagg, transforme-moi_!"

For a brief moment, a bright flash of green filled the chamber – and the Prince was no more. In his place stood a boy with slightly messy (yet still stylish enough for a ball) blond hair and sparkling green eyes that were reminiscent of a cat's hiding underneath a dark mask.

His attire did make him appear as though he was someone of high standards, shiny leather boots and an expensive black coat, to make sure the boy wouldn't fall out of place amongst the other ball attendants. Plagg had disappeared – when his powers were being used by the Miraculous, he could not be present physically – but that didn't seem bother Adrien any longer. It was as if this new suit gave him confidence – a feeling he'd never experienced. And he liked it.

"Now let's get to the party," Adrien told himself, "and find that Ladybug Princess."

"The sun is setting, Marinette. It's time to go the ball."

"But how?" Marinette mumbled. "I don't have a carriage... and it's too far to walk..."

Tikki smiled. "I believe your father took care of that," she said, trying hard to suppress a chuckle. "Your mother found the invitation. Strictly ordered your father to keep quiet until tonight."

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Please tell me they didn't overspend on a dress."

Tikki shrugged. "You make clothes, don't you? They probably think you'd make one of your own." Marinette couldn't help but agree with that.

"Now, about that dress... simply ask me to transform you, and the Miraculous's Magic will do the rest.

"But remember: once the clock strikes midnight, you'll become a normal girl once again."

Marinette nodded, slightly doubtful, but still opened her mouth.

" _Tikki, transforme... moi_?"

A bright, pink light filled Marinette's small bedroom, causing a few passing citizens on the street to turn their head towards the small cottage behind the bakery. When the light extinguished, they shrugged and moved along with their evening, pretending nothing had happened.

Marinette couldn't believe what she saw when she looked in the mirror. She was no longer a baker's girl; she was dressed in a long ballroom gown. The skirt was black, that shimmered and glittered in the light. The bodice and the elbow-length gloves had a similar design; red, with black spots on the top end. Her shoulders were partially covered by a dark bertha which was similar to the dress's skirt; a ladybug-shell brooch held the two ends together on her chest.

Marinette's identity became a secret thanks to the mask on her face; it had a ladybug pattern. She was a Ladybug Princess.

The girl truly liked what Tikki had done with her hair; it was tied half up and half down, still allowing her bangs to fall free. Marinette had no idea she could look like that.

"Wow... Tikki, thank you!"

Marinette turned around, searching for Tikki, but there was no sign of her. "Oh, well," she mumbled, "guess I'm on my own from here on, then."

She made her way down the stairs, careful not to step on her hem and fall.

When she arrived downstairs, Marinette found her parents waiting by the door, smiling excitedly.

"Oh, just look how pretty she looks, Tom," Marinette's mother said. "Invited to a ball!"

"You look beautiful," her father said. "I- er- we couldn't help ourselves. We hired you a carriage to take you to the castle."

Marinette smiled. "Thank you father, thank you mother," she said. "I'm very grateful."

She hugged her parents and left, walking to the carriage that waited outside. It all felt so unreal. Was she truly going to a ball?

She guessed she was.

Marinette knew she mustn't forget the promise she'd made to Tikki; she had to find the boy dressed as a cat, carrying the Miraculous that belonged to Tikki's partner. Then, they could find and stop Hawk Moth together.

For tonight, she wasn't just a Princess, she was a _badass_.


	5. Chapter 5: Enchanting Pair

**Chapter Five**

 **Enchanting Pair**

As Adrien arrived at the front gates of the castle, entirely disguised and pretending to be a guest, he felt anxiety begin to creep up on him.

What had he actually agreed to do? Find some super dangerous criminal and stop him?

According to Plagg, Hawk Moth was out to kidnap the Prince. Which meant Adrien. What if all of this went horribly wrong?

And then there was Plagg's partner… or, a girl being guided by Plagg's partner. Who was she? Plagg knew they were a girl, and that was all. How was Adrien supposed to find them?

A Ladybug Princess. That meant they were wearing something ladybug-themed. Spots.

Adrien had to focus on finding black-on-red spots.

He stepped out of the carriage, nervous whether or not the staff would recognise him. But, by the way they acted, Adrien could tell they didn't. They weren't truly paying attention to the way the guests looked, anyway.

Lucky for Adrien.

He entered the castle without being recognised. Plagg had done his job well. Now, it was up to Adrien to find his partner in crime and stop that criminal from ruining the ball.

The reason this whole ball was going on right now popped into Adrien's mind. How was he to stop a villain and find a wife all in one night? The boy let out a deep sigh.

He didn't want to disappoint his father. But then again, on the other hand – the whole idea was unrealistic to begin with. He couldn't choose someone to spend the rest of his life with based on just one night. He needed more time than that.

How could he marry someone he'd just met? Or – what if they could spend more time together after the ball, but she turned out not to be right for Adrien after all? Then he'd be back at square one, and the King would not be the least bit pleased.

It was a lose-lose situation either way. For now, Adrien had other things on his mind.

But where could a young Prince, disguised as a cat, find a lady who looked like a bug? A ladybug?

Adrien watched from a corner of the ballroom as more and more people kept arriving, having their names announced. People stood around clapping as attendants to the ball came down the stairs, usually in pairs; Adrien had been announced as the 'Duke of Chessy'. Adrien knew the Duke had sent his father a letter that he would not be able to attend the ball due to illness. The staff, however, had no idea, thus it was the perfect cover for Adrien.

Adrien awoke from his thoughts when the ballroom suddenly went awfully silent. He looked around to see what was going on, but he didn't need to search for long.

A girl had arrived. And literally everyone in the ballroom was staring at her, silently admiring her beauty.

The lackey was too flustered by her appearance to announce her; the girl seemed surprised at the attention she was getting. She was caught off guard for a moment, looked out of place.

And the pattern on the corset of her dress… seemed to resemble a ladybug. Adrien's heart skipped a beat.

It was her. She was the one he was supposed to meet at the ball.

He involuntarily took a few steps forward, towards the stairs, at the top of which his Ladybug Princess waited. He noticed heads turning from her towards him, questioning what he was doing. How dared he approach such a delicate young lady?

"Who is that guy?" Adrien recognised the unmistakable sound of Chloé's sharp voice in the crowd. "And who is _she_?" That last sentence was filled with obvious contempt and jealousy.

Adrien ignored Chloé's voice, ignored the crowd of eyes staring at him. And the girl? She did the same.

She appeared confused for a brief moment, before she noticed the cat's ears sticking out from the Prince's hair; this caused her to cautiously move forward as she began to descend the stairs and approach him.

"Hello, My Lady," the Prince said, bowing for the girl. "A good evening to you."

"Good evening," the Lady replied. She was nervous. Of course she was. "So… it's you?

"Us? We have to stop him?"

The Prince nodded. "Come with me," he said, "you were the last guest. The King will announce the Prince's birthday in a few minutes."

"How do you know?" the Lady asked as she linked arms with the Prince.

Adrien gritted his teeth. "I have a feeling, since that's the reason as to why the whole ball was thrown, isn't it?" the Prince replied. The Lady nodded.

And Adrien turned out to be right. The doors to the ballroom weren't closed, but the front gates were – and the King appeared at his throne. He did not appeared to be dressed up.

"Welcome," he spoke. "Thank you all for coming tonight.

"Of course, you all know why you're here – your daughters were invited. They have a chance of becoming Paris's future Queen."

Excited cheers came from the audience. Chloé and Sabrina. Adrien couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Was his Lady also rolling hers?

"My son, the Prince, will be amongst you tonight," the King continued to speak, "disguised as one of you. This way, he hopes to find a lady of his liking in private.

"All I can say, is that I hope he finds his happiness here tonight. You may begin enjoying yourself – I must return to my work."

The audience applauded, and the King left the throne room through a door in the back.

"Always working," Adrien mumbled under his breath, as he party came to life around him and his Lady.

"What?" the Lady asked.

"No-nothing," the Prince replied. "The King just always seems so busy. It must be difficult being him."

"I think it's more difficult being his son," Marinette replied, without thinking. When she saw the Prince's surprised face, she corrected herself. "Of course it's not as if the King doesn't love his son," the Lady corrected, "it's just – being royalty seems like such a heavy task."

The Prince snorted. "Yeah. You don't know the half of it."

Marinette couldn't help it. She was curious. About both this Prince, and the actual Prince. The Prince seemed really kind. This one, she didn't know for sure whether or not she was – she'd hardly even spoken to him. She'd decided to trust him because of Tikki and her friend – not that she had a choice in the matter, otherwise. Tikki's friend – or perhaps Mr Fu, who had given her the earrings - had chosen him. Did 'Mr' really stand for 'Mister'?

But Prince Adrien… despite only having spoken to him once, he seemed so kind. She felt nervous about the fact that he was wandering amongst the guests tonight, disguised as a normal person in a mask.

What if something went wrong? How could she and this Prince help him if they couldn't recognise him?

Marinette still felt worried, as if something bad was bound to happen tonight.

"My Lady?" the Prince suddenly asked, holding out his hand in front of Marinette. "May I have this dance?"

"You want to _dance_?" the Lady asked. "We need to find Hawk Moth before-!"

The Prince smiled. "We need to find him," he agreed, "but not cause any suspicion. We've already drawn enough attention to ourselves as it is. So… I figured it's best we blend in." He smirked.

"Besides, this song is my favourite waltz."

Seeing the Lady's lips curl up in a nervous smile, the Prince took her hand and guided her to the dance floor. Even now, the mysterious duo was once again catching people's attention.

"Don't worry," the Prince reassured his Lady, smiling kindly. "You'll do fine. Just follow my lead."

Marinette tried her best to keep up with the Prince, who was surprisingly skilled at dancing. She nervously counted the steps in her head.

"Don't," the Prince said. "Don't count. Don't fret. Just do. Dance."

Marinette swallowed, and followed his advice. She allowed her feet to do what they wanted, and the Lady instantly appeared as though she had been dancing this same dance with the Prince for ages. Like she had practiced it a million times before.

For some reason, something about the Prince began to feel familiar.

The duo hadn't even noticed that the crowd had ceased to dance, had formed a perfect circle around the Lady and her Prince. They watched as they danced, swirled, twirled. They seemed to float above the dance floor, just mere centimetres above it. The crowd was captivated, enchanted until the song ended and they bowed toward each other to end the dance.

The crowd clapped; Marinette started. But seeing the Prince smirking at her made her feel alright.

"You did purr-fect, My Lady," the Prince said with a laugh.

"Wow," the Lady replied, "that was bad. Really bad."

But still, in her mind, she thought his joke was kind of funny.


	6. Chapter 6: The Moth

**Chapter Six**

 **The Moth**

Most moths are drawn to the light. This particular moth, however, preferred to stay in the dark, unnoticed.

His hat was large; he'd preferred to have kept his cloak's hood up, but admitted that that would have drawn attention. His suit and mask, both reminiscent of a purple butterfly – gave him a somewhat majestic, yet mysterious look.

No one at the party knew that this guest, shrouded in the shadows, hadn't arrived through the castle's gates. Hardly any of the guests even acknowledged his presence.

The guests hadn't even noticed both the King's and Prince's absence. They were aware that the young Prince had blended in with the guests, and now that the King was nowhere to be found, they assumed the King had done the same as his son.

The perfect cover for the Moth. He waited in the dark, searching for the flame that would draw him out of his hiding spot – a pair of earrings and a ring.

To the Moth's surprise, they were incredibly easy to find. When the girl arrived, she instantly drew everyone's attention, and the young lad that carried the ring quickly found her – putting them even more in the centre of the attention by inviting her to dance.

The Moth couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. These youngsters were obviously children, no older than twenty, perhaps even younger. They had no clue what they were doing – let alone what and who they were up against.

Considering things as they were looking now, the Moth suspected that this would be an easy job. This ball had no need of lasting more than one night for the Moth – he'd have both pieces of jewellery by the time the night was over.

But still, despite the fact that the Moth could strike now, rob both children of their magic and thus embarrassing them in front of the whole crowd, he had no intention of making such a dramatic entrance – there simply was no need for it. These children mildly intrigued the Moth, piquing his curiosity. He decided to watch them for just a while longer, and perhaps try to come up with a more subtle way of getting what he wanted. If possible, he could try and see if anyone at the party was up for doing his bidding and claiming the jewellery for him.

After all, he hadn't stolen and put on the brooch his own magic was sourced to never use it. It provided him with a proper disguise, but it was the immense power within that had attracted him towards it.

It wasn't as if the brooch's original owner was ever planning on using it, anyway. This jewel was so much more than just an object that had to be contained inside a box, where it could rust up and be useless – it was far too powerful to be just a brooch, and not abusing its power for one's own purpose almost seemed impossible.

The Moth had its own reasons. He had his reasons for using the brooch, as well as his reasons for his desire to claim the Cat's ring and the Ladybug's earrings.

After all, the way the Moth viewed things, the end always justified the means. And that meant that nothing could stop the Moth from achieving his goal.

The Moth leaned back against the wall behind him as a frown spread across his face. Oh, how the Kwami that was connected to the brooch had squirmed when the Moth had told her of his plans. She'd cried, screamed, begged him to change his mind, that his plan wasn't the only way of achieving his goal.

She'd quickly learned that there was no way to change the Moth's mind.

He hadn't harmed the Kwami in any way, considering that would only work in his disadvantage – if the Kwami wasn't healthy, the brooch's magic wouldn't and couldn't activate.

And still, if this condition did not exist, the Moth still wouldn't have harmed the Kwami. She was young, inexperienced, but a child. In some ways, the young Kwami girl reminded the Moth of his own son when he was younger.

The Moth sighed. His son… younger. The past were better times, but soon, those times would be just as good again. All the Moth needed in order for that to happen, were the two Miraculouses – the Cat's and the Ladybug's.

The Moth clenched both his fists and his teeth, feeling the metal of his cane heat up through his satin black gloves. The tartar clipped off his teeth, creating a gnashing sound as he grinded them. The odds had challenged him one time too many. The Moth was about to lose his patience, and he hoped with all his might that he would acquire the Miraculous jewellery and accomplish his goal before his patience ran out. It'd be a lot better for everyone.

The Moth looked up again, out into the crowd of people that was conversing and dancing in the brightly lit ballroom. Nobody seemed to notice the Moth or his piercing eyes as he scanned the entirety of the room, desperately searching for the Prince and the Princess, hoping he hadn't lost sight of them; he could not afford to lose the children from sight now. That meant he'd have to move from his hiding spot and risk being noticed by the other guests. Perhaps they'd want to get to know him, strike up a conversation with them, and, in order not to awaken any suspicion, the Moth would have no choice but to stand around and absentmindedly take part in the pointless conversation.

If he got caught in such a trap – yes, the Moth considered civilian birds-and-bees-talk a trap, something that was sure to endanger his mission, his purpose – there was no way the Moth would ever be able to fulfil his purpose in just one night. The children would get an advantage, get to know the ballroom, each other – they'd be far more prepared for the Moth and his tricks than they were right now.

The Moth frowned. From where he was currently standing, he could not get sight of the Prince and the Princess. He'd have to move. But he'd have to be careful – no one could be aware of his presence. Not yet.

The Moth reconsidered the 'trap' of civilian conversation that had struck his mind earlier. Speaking to civilians while pretending to be a regular guest would possibly work to the Moth's advantage at some point – up to a certain degree, at least. He doubted anyone would be expressing any kind of negative emotions tonight, considering how cheerful and light the ball's mood seemed to be, but alcohol tended to do strange things to people.

Perhaps he could influence someone enough in order to get upset – with anything the Moth could come up with at that particular moment. Then, he could make his victim all his – a perfect, unsuspecting, unobtrusive, willing puppet, entirely at the Moth's disposal, ready to do his bidding.

If possible, he might attempt to control two people at once. Or even more. The more people the Moth had on his side, the easier it would be to set a trap for the Prince and the Princess.

He could have them surrounded by party guests, ambushed and restrained, entirely taken by surprise. They were just children, they'd never even know what hit them.

The Moth straightened his back, finally coming to terms with the fact that he had no choice in the matter. He had to move from his hiding spot and set his plan in motion, all while making sure he remained out of the children's direct line of sight and undetected. He had no intention of hurting them, not at all. But the Moth knew that the possibility of having no choice in the matter was evident. If these two children were ready for a fight – although they were not dressed for it – then the Moth would have to be, too. He suspected the Prince and Princess would not surrender their jewellery easily; if the Kwamis had chosen them for this task, then they must have some righteousness to them. Perhaps the Kwamis had told them a sad story, to guilt-trip and motivate them into stopping the Moth.

The Moth made himself no illusion; he knew the reason these children were sent here. They had to stop the Moth, have him surrender his Miraculous instead of the other way around. The children probably believed that the Moth was here to kidnap someone of the Royal Family or someone else rich in order to get the Miraculouses. Little did they know that the Moth had no need to kidnap anyone in order to get what he wanted.

And even if the Moth ended up making the mistake of underestimating the children, the Moth still wasn't going to comply and surrender. No, he couldn't. He'd fought so hard, come so far. If he gave up now, allowed himself to be taken down by two children, all of his hard work would go to waste. He wouldn't be loyal to his cause. To himself.

No, the Moth would not give up. Not even if he had to come back a second or maybe even a third night. Even if he had no choice but to have to identify the Prince and the Princess and catch them by surprise in their own homes. Even the thought, the idea that the Moth would possibly be harming two very young individuals who weren't even fully-grown adults yet wouldn't stop him.

There was simply too much at stake for the Moth to give up and turn back now. He'd made far too many terrible decisions that set him on this path to leave it now.

He clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth again, this time with determination rather than rage.

The Moth wanted the Miraculouses, and have the Miraculouses he would.


	7. Chapter 7: The Jealous Bee

**Chapter Seven**

 **The Jealous Bee**

The Moth slowly scanned the crowd as he passed the masses of people, surprisingly enough managing to go by perfectly unnoticed; he'd lost track of the Lady and the Prince while considering his next move, and cursed himself for it – though he decided that this mistake perhaps could be turned to his advantage. Perhaps there was someone in the crowd, someone whom the Moth could influence enough to work with him. The more people he had working by his side, albeit in secret, the better.

The Moth absolutely possessed no desire to have to return for the Miraculous a second night. If there was no need to, then why risk exposing his identity and getting unmasked in front of a massive crowd? The Moth was already putting enough at risk as things were. He could not afford to mess up.

Trying to maintain his patience, the Moth knew, would be the hardest task. There were far more people attending the ball than he'd anticipated, and they were all there for the Prince.

There were many young girls, and they all wanted to have their shot with the Prince, but they had no idea which boy was him. The Moth figured that this was sure to lead to some frustration boiling up within some of the particularly less kind and more spoiled and greedy girls of which the Moth was sure were attending the ball as well.

Spoiled brats were everywhere, most certainly within families of royalty and nobility. And the Moth would make sure to use these girls' easily influenced minds to his advantage.

Of course, there had to be at least _one_ girl – one who was jealous of the Lady, who'd _instantly_ become the Belle of the Ball the moment she'd so much as _appeared_ at the ballroom's entry doors. _All_ attention had been drawn to _her_ and this mysterious _boy_ – whoever _he_ was – instead of to that girl, who now stood there, feeling _greatly_ unappreciated, despite her best friends' reassurances of how she was the prettiest girl around that night, rather than that Lady. This should've been _her_ night, right? Not any _other_ random girl's. _She_ should have been the one to be looked at, gawked at with _awe_ , envied, _loved_ by _all_. _She_ should have been the one to dance with that mysterious, _handsome_ stranger – what if it happened to be the _Prince_ , or someone who was _close_ to him?

What if this _Lady_ was to take that girl's rightful place by the Prince's side, her _right_ to become his Queen when he became King? She could _not_ let that happen. She _would_ not let that happen.

People just had to forget that this other girl, this ladybug, or whoever or whatever she was, existed.

How dare she steal the bug-theme. Chloé's dress and mask were both beautifully bee-themed, as were all her accessories. She just missed the perfect hairpiece. Was that the reason why Chloé's dress hadn't been admired and stared at, like that Ladybug's dress had?

Who was she, anyway? What business did she have here, other than trying to steal the Prince's heart, Chloé's Prince?

Adrien was hers. Everyone knew that. And if they didn't, they'd better learn. And this Ladybug-girl was about to learn _tonight_.

The Moth smiled as he noticed a blonde girl, dressed in a yellow ball gown decorated with expensive silk around the skirt to resemble a bee's body. The gown's body was black and covered in small, glittering stones. Even the girl's mask was decorated with black and yellow gemstones. The Moth could tell this one, this girl, was the girl he'd been looking for while scanning the crowd. She was the perfect candidate for his plan, and the Moth felt as though she'd be more than willing to cooperate – as long as she was motivated in the right way.

The Moth hid away again, making sure the coast was clear. Then, he produced a small butterfly from underneath his cloak – it was a beautiful, white creature. Until the Moth put his gloved hands around it; the small, white butterfly shivered as its wings gained a dark purple colour with glowing white patterns. It was as if the little butterfly's innocence was corrupted the moment the Moth caught it in his evil hands.

"I have a job for you, my little butterfly," he whispered to the creature between his fingers. "Or, should I say, _mon petit Akuma_."

The butterfly had completed its transformation. It'd stopped struggling, no longer trying to break free, accepting its fate and whatever mission its new master was about to give it. Orders the butterfly, now Akuma, knew it had no choice but to follow.

"My little Akuma, I need you to find me that little jealous bee and bring her to me," the Moth whispered to the Akuma in his hand. "Just simply lure her in, and don't take any bystanders with her. Just her… then we'll take care of the rest. She's in a way too busy of a crowd to… _motivate_ her properly."

The Moth opened his hands and the Akuma flew free into the crowd of people, off to fulfil the task his master had just bestowed upon him.

"Fly, my Akuma," the Moth said, "though I doubt darkening her heart any further will be all that necessary."

The Akuma went on its way, quickly flapping its wings to reach its target – Chloé. Just as the Akuma flew into her view, Chloé was talking to Sabrina. More discourse about the Ladybug and her fabulous dress and how she didn't deserve all she was getting, nothing more interesting than that.

When Chloé noticed the small, purple butterfly flying about, she instantly knew she had to go and check it out. She ordered Sabrina to stay right where she was, and though she'd rather gone along with her friend to wherever she was going, the girl obliged without a word.

Chloé followed the Akuma without knowing the danger that awaited at the end of the route. It lead her outside, to the castle gardens, which were open to guests that night but surprisingly hardly visited by any of them. Chloé's curiosity grew with every step she took, making it impossible for her to change her mind halfway-through.

Chloé couldn't help but wonder. Why had the butterfly, so mysterious yet beautiful in appearance, appeared before her? Why had no one else noticed it? Was she special, was she the only one who could see it? Was this butterfly there just for her, would it admire her, her hair, her dress?

Perhaps this was the confirmation Chloé was looking for. This mystical butterfly believed she was special, and to Chloé, this feeling was better than any kind of feeling she could ever muster. For a moment, she managed to forget all about that Ladybug and her beautiful dress and how Chloé envied her.

For a moment, Chloé was happy.

That happiness would quickly vanish as the girl and the Akuma reached their destination. A man, dressed in all purple and wearing a large hat and cloak stood before Chloé, alerting her that something was up. He'd obviously been waiting for her, and there was no doubt that he was the one who'd sent the butterfly to lure Chloé to him.

"Who – who are you?" the Bee asked, taking a careful step backwards as to not to get too closed to the mysterious man in the hat. "What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here?"

Chloé noticed that the man's mouth curled upwards. It was basically the only area of skin exposed underneath the hat. The mask the man wore was massive, butterfly-shaped, but pointed and aggressive-looking. His blue eyes were piercing between all the purple colours and stared right into Chloé's despite the low lighting.

"You can call me a friend, my Queen Bee," the Moth said, smiling in a way Chloé just could not assume to be friendly.

"You're not my friend," Chloé said, "you sound far too old for that. Do you know my father?"

The Moth nodded. "I do," he said, "I am not a friend of yours, but one of your father's. I actually brought you out here to offer you some help."

Behind her mask, Chloé lowered a suspicious eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'help'?" she asked, still refusing to approach the purple-dressed stranger.

"I noticed you earlier tonight," the Moth explained. "You seemed rather upset, I must say. It's because of that girl, isn't it? The Ladybug?"

Chloé couldn't help but admit that the stranger was entirely right. "Yeah, I didn't like that she got everyone's undivided attention," she tried to explain herself without sounding _too_ narcissistic. "You know, it isn't as if she is the _only_ girl around. Why would she het all of the attention? What's so special about her?" Chloé crossed her arms and pouted childishly. "It's just not fair."

The Moth couldn't help but smile in amusement at the display in front of him. This girl was truly spoiled, indeed. She was the perfect candidate to help the Moth get what he wanted.

"I can help you with that, dear," he said, grinning. "If you'll let me, of course."

Chloé's hands quickly moved to her hips. "How could _you_ help _me_?" she said. "Show me first. You have to show me how you're planning on helping me!

"You're wasting my time right now, so you better hurry up so I can return to the ball and find my Prince Charming!"

A dangerous smile crept up on the Moth's lips. "Ah, but of _course_ ," he said. "Don't worry, dear. I will show you right away."

The Akuma, which had been waiting patiently for its master to give it a sign, quickly approached Chloé. She stepped aside, but the Akuma flew up, touching her hairpiece. The Moth had caught a Bee... how curious.

"Now that's out of the way, I'm sure we'll be able to agree on everything," the Moth said. "I want to help you get your Prince, but in return, you'll have to do something for me.

"I promise this will benefit us both... in multiple ways."

The Queen Bee slightly tilted her head in curiosity. "Is that so?" she said. "Tell me more, Moth."

The Moth grinned. "If you want your Prince, you'll have to get rid of the Ladybug and her suited sidekick... _le Chat Noir_... Prince Noir. You can dot his by taking their jewellery... it will reveal them for what they truly are: peasants, disguised by magic to look like Royalty. They will be humiliated... and you will take your place beside the Prince. He would loss all interest in that peasant Ladybug once he knew her identity."

Queen Bee wanted to ask how the Moth knew all this, were they _really_ peasants? But her desire for the Prince was far greater than her desire for logic and knowledge, and thus she agreed.

"Let me guess," she said, "you desire to possess these magical jewellery?"

The Moth nodded. "You get the idea, dear.

"Now, go. We have only so long before midnight strikes."


	8. Chapter 8: A Clever Disguise

**Chapter Eight**

 **A clever Disguise**

"Don't you think we should focus on our mission?" the Lady sounded confident when making the suggestion, hoping to snap the lost little cat who'd just been a fierce lion as she'd danced with him out of his thoughts. There were moments of confidence in him, and moments where he just seemed… lost.

"Uh?" Obviously, the Lady's blond-haired companion hadn't been listening. He'd been too far in the back of his mind to be able to do so. "I'm – I'm sorry. I wasn't listening. What were you saying, My Lady?"

Marinette couldn't help but roll her eyes. Was she really to find and arrest a wanted and possibly highly dangerous criminal with _this_ doofus at her side? Some battle that would be. Marinette considered the two of them would hardly stand a chance against a magical villain like the Moth – magical earrings or not. This man was an adult, and they were two teenagers fooling around.

Marinette had to consider that second thought. How old was this boy by her side, actually? Marinette herself was seventeen, but she couldn't tell how old the Prince was due to his mask.

Was it really important? Perhaps it was. Perhaps it wasn't. The chance that Marinette knew this face behind the mask was impossibly small, anyway. It was likely that he was from another Kingdom, and had travelled all the way here to protect Paris.

And then again, even if he wasn't, the city of Paris was so large. Marinette had hardly seen ten percent of all the land the city covered. Let alone the rest of France.

Marinette decided to let go of the thought; if this boy wanted to share his identity with her, he'd probably do at some point – Marinette just wasn't sure whether or not she'd be comfortable sharing _hers_ , too.

"I was saying that we should stop mocking about and get back to focusing on our mission," the Lady told her companion. "The Kwamis are counting on us – especially the one that needs rescue from the Moth."

The Prince's eyes met the Lady's, and his head gave a small nod. Adrien had almost forgot what they were here for – it was partially the Lady's fault, too.

Thanks to her, Adrien remembered the other reason as to why he was supposed to be here, the reason this ball was even happening at all. Adrien was supposed to be socialising with the guests while maintaining his secret identity, while trying to find a girl whom he found fit to become his Queen.

And yet, the Lady was the only girl Adrien had had eyes for all night. Even despite the fact that part of Adrien's mission was to work with the Lady, Adrien probably wouldn't have wanted to spend time with anyone else that night. The thought of possibly of ending up talking to Chloé all night without realising it horrified him. The Lady was definitely a better choice – Adrien wondered who she was.

"Of course, My Lady," he said, but then his face turned into a frown. He remembered the invitation he'd handed out a couple days ago, to – Marinette, was it? The baker's daughter.

Had she accepted his invitation, or had she ignored it? That single question formed an instant distraction for the Prince.

Where was she? Was she enjoying the party? Was she looking for him, for the Prince? Or was she at home, did she not care for the invitation, the ball, for him at all?

For some reason, thinking that Marinette wasn't at the ball that night upset Adrien more than he thought it would.

"Noir?" The Lady woke Adrien from his thoughts. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing, My Lady," the Prince said quickly, his cheeks turning bright red underneath his mask. "I was wondering if there was anyone I knew at the ball tonight."

The Lady shrugged. "It's a masquerade, so you won't likely find out," she said. "It's also a positive for us – you know, so we won't stand out with our concealed identities."

Adrien nodded absentmindedly. He remembered Plagg's explanation of how the kwami's magic and jewellery worked. The Lady was right; if Adrien hadn't got his father to turn the ball into a masquerade, he and the Lady would've stood out as a sore thumb now. Lucky them.

"Okay, alright – enough." The Lady let out a sigh. "We need to focus on getting this done – before the Moth makes a move."

The Prince nodded. "What time is it? We only have until midnight before the kwami's magic fades."

Marinette's eyes scanned the ballroom, in search of a clock. Above the throne hung one, ridiculously large and with silver and gold details – the royal time indicator told her that it was just half past ten.

Marinette bit her lip. "We don't have much time," the Lady told her companion. "It's one and a half an hour until midnight. We have to hurry and find the Moth."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" the Prince said. "Let's just hope midnight doesn't strike mid- _fight_."

Adrien grinned at his Lady, but she seemed very unimpressed.

"Seriously, stop that," she said, "before I change my mind and fight _you_ instead."

The Prince offered her a series of quick, apologetic nods. Apparently, she wasn't a fan of puns. But then again, they were on a mission, they were supposed to be protecting Paris and possibly the Royal Family, too. They weren't supposed to have time to joke around.

The Prince suggested his partner they check the gardens first, because they were probably the least crowded and easiest to scan for suspicious activity – the Lady asked him how he knew this, and Adrien had to quickly make up an excuse that he'd been in the garden earlier that night, when the Lady hadn't arrived yet.

The gardens were never busy during castle parties. Adrien knew this all too well – he often found his father there, enjoying his own company or the company of one or two of his 'friends'. His most loyal subjects.

It then hit Adrien – he hadn't seen his father all night since he opened the ball just before the Lady arrived. After that, he retreated out of the ballroom, and hadn't returned since.

Where was he?

When Marinette set foot outside the ballroom into the large gardens, she was quick to realise the Prince had been right – there was no one there, or so it seemed. The gardens were larger than Marinette's eyes could see. The Prince, however, seemed confident in this large, unfamiliar area, and thus the Lady allowed her companion to lead the operation of scanning the outside for anything suspicious.

They first headed west into the garden, which, according to the Prince's information, was the smallest area to check. The Lady suggested splitting up, but the Prince denied her, suggesting that neither of them really knew what the Moth looked like and what kind of tricks he might have in store.

However, when the duo found the entire west part of the garden, with fountains and bushes, empty and almost desolate, the Prince gave in. If they didn't split up, scanning the entire garden would take at least two hours. Split in two, they'd be able to clear the job much faster.

The Prince headed east, the Lady headed south. The castle itself was located in the northern direction. It was possible that the Moth wasn't even hiding among the people, but waited somewhere more secluded and hidden, waiting for the moment to strike.

Marinette bit her lip. What was she doing? She had no experience dealing with criminals, let alone a magical criminal. The Prince was right – she and him knew nothing about the Moth. They didn't know what he looked like, what his plan of action was, or what he was capable of. What would the Lady and the Prince do if they found him? Or if either of them found him, in the garden, right now?

Marinette did not find the Moth, but she did find someone else. A girl. She was just standing there, all by herself, her back turned to Marinette. The dress she was wearing seemed to resemble a bee.

"Um, hello?" Marinette asked, careful not to approach the girl too quickly, afraid to startle her.

"Are you alright? What are you doing here, all by yourself?"

The girl turned around. "Oh, I was just waiting," she said and smiled. She played with her long, blonde hair as she spoke. "And I'm done waiting now."

"But- then who were you waiting for?" Marinette asked, feeling confused with the situation. She was too late to realise that the blonde-haired girl meant she'd been waiting for Marinette.

The girl stepped forward quickly, grabbing Marinette's wrist before she could run. "You!" the girl shouted. By the sound of her voice, Marinette realised who she was dealing with.

"Chloé, stop!" she shouted, but the girl in front of Marinette was no longer Chloé. She looked like almost an exact copy of Marinette, except her dress was black with red details instead of the other way around.

"I'm sorry, Lady," Chloé said, "but you don't get to be the star of this evening. That'll be _me_."Even Chloé's voice had changed to resemble Marinette's. "I'll wrap that little kitty around my finger, and then hand both yours and his jewellery to the Moth!"

Marinette narrowed her eyes. "Do you think anyone will believe you?" she said. "I'm still here, you know!"

"I know," Chloé said, "but not for long."

Another girl appeared from behind a bush, whom Marinette recognised as Sabrina. She was carrying a rope and approached Marinette and Chloé.

"I have to get rid of you, so I guess I'll just tie you down in this empty garden," Chloé told Marinette.

"No, you're not!" Marinette shouted, pulling her wrists free. She turned and ran, but Sabrina was quick to get into action. She flung herself toward the ground, grabbing hold of Marinette's ankles.

"Hey! Let go!" Marinette yelled and tried to kick Sabrina off her, but her leg got caught in her dress.

"It's best if you stop struggling, Lady," Chloé said, "because you've yet to discover the secrets about your jewels."

Marinette looked up at Chloé; the girl was holding a wooden disc covered in a black-and-red ladybug pattern – a yoyo.

"What are you planning on doing with that?" the Lady asked, being unable to love her legs now thanks to Sabrina – the girl had decided to sit on top of Marinette's legs as she tied them to prevent Marinette from kicking her away.

"The cable is quite strong…" Chloé said, "I wonder…"

She tossed the yoyo skilfully, wrapping the extended cord tightly around Marinette's torso.

"So, you really think this is going to get you close to the Prince?" Marinette asked her opponent, but then came up with a better question. "What did the Moth do to you?"

Chloé shrugged. "He helped me," she said. "And if he keeps his word, then I'll get what I want.

"And if I get what I want, then he'll get his jewellery. So… just wait until midnight, alright?" Chloé winked at Marinette and walked away. Sabrina stayed behind to make sure Marinette wouldn't run – not that it'd be possible, with both her legs and arms tied tightly.

Marinette sighed. Defeated by Chloé. This truly was a new low point. If she could convince Sabrina to set her free, she could stop Chloé from doing whatever she was planning, but Marinette knew it'd take a lot for Sabrina to put herself past her fear of Chloé's wrath.

The Lady needed to move quickly and find a way to contact Prince Noir – as quickly as possible.


	9. Chapter 9: The Stroke of Midnight

**Chapter Nine**

 **The Stroke of Midnight**

The Moth grinned at the current developments. He'd let the little Bee carry out her plan – as of right now, it seemed as though the girl was doing everything just right. By midnight, she'd have both the Lady's and the Prince's Miraculous, and she'd come to deliver them to him.

And then he'd make good on his promise. The Moth felt bad for his son, but the Moth was sure the boy would understand once his father explained everything. The Prince had to marry someday anyway, and this way, at least the future Queen would be one of noble blood.

If the Prince was to truly follow his father's footsteps to every detail, then the young boy would eventually grow to deeply love the wife he wed in an arranged marriage. The same had happened for the King and his Queen.

The Moth was convinced his victory was secured. As long as Queen Bee didn't fail him, the night's outcome would be perfect.

She was on her way to Prince Noir. Now, the chance of success depended on Noir's ability to pay attention. Would he notice the slight changes? The inversion of the colours on the Lady's dress, her 'slight' change in personality? Perhaps.

But what would it matter? The Lady had been easily apprehended – Prince Noir would be no different.

The Moth wasn't in the gardens, or at least for as far as Adrien could tell. In fact, there was no one in the garden at all. Adrien noticed that the gardens were usually quiet whenever his father threw parties and balls, but this was a new kind of quiet. It was as if there was something in the air outside that kept the guests away.

The Prince had decided to wait for his Lady, right in the spot where they'd decided to split up. If she found something, she would probably come find him first. It simply wasn't safe to take on an enemy alone – especially not while they were dressed the way they currently were.

Adrien sighed. He had to ask Plagg if there was something more comfortable to wear in his kwami-wardrobe. A suit like this wasn't quite the ideal garment to fight crime in.

The sound of a voice calling him drew his attention. The Lady had returned! But… from a distance, she might've as well been a stranger. What had happened to her? Adrien could not help but feel suspicious as the girl approached him.

Something was off.

Adrien decided to pretend as if he hadn't noticed that something was going on, and wait and see how things would turn out. Adrien was convinced this change was the Moth's doing somehow.

"My Lady," he grinned, "I'm glad to see you return safely. Did you notice anything odd in the gardens?"

"No, I didn't," the 'Lady' said. Queen Bee grinned in her mind; this cat-boy was even dumber than she'd thought. He didn't notice that the girl in front of him was entirely different from the one before at all. This assignment would be a piece of cake. "Did you find anything, Noir?"

The Prince shook his head. "No I didn't, Ma'am," he said. "It seems all too quiet outside."

Queen Bee carefully stroked her chin. How was she to get this oaf to follow her to the Moth? Sabrina would take care of that Lady and her earrings, but Queen Bee had to take care of Prince Noir. She knew he'd be too clever for her to be able to just strip the ring right from his gloved fingers, and thus she had to come up with a more sophisticated way to relieve the Prince from his Miraculous.

"So, where do you suggest we search for the Moth next?" Queen Bee asked. If she could manipulate him into following her, then she could lead the Prince right to the Moth. She had to make sure the Prince absolutely trusted the Lady for one hundred per cent, no doubt. Otherwise, her plan wouldn't work.

"Uhm…" the Prince scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly as he mentally scanned for a place to check. Of course they could not go into the castle's private chambers without looking suspicious, but if they wanted a shot at finding the Moth, then perhaps there would be their best shot at finding him.

"The Moth could be hiding out in the Prince's private chambers," the Prince said. "Plagg told me that the Moth would probably try and kidnap him. Perhaps he's simply waiting for the ball to end, for the Prince to return to his chamber. That way, he can take him away without making a fuss at the ball, and make his intentions and demands clear once the entire Kingdom goes out to search for the Prince."

"What!?" Chloé shouted. The Moth wanted to kidnap the Prince? This wasn't part of the plan! The Prince should stay at the ball, and announce Chloé as his Queen later that night!

Or did the Moth set up a diversion? Was the 'kidnapping the Prince' merely a way to distract the Miraculous-bearers, so he could catch them in a trap?

Chloé tapped her lips, instantly regretting it – the red lipstick left a bright mark on her black silk gloves. But yes, that had to be the case. She quickly had to snap back into character; obviously, the Lady had been briefed on the same story as Prince Noir had, and thus Queen Bee had to act as if she knew about this.

"I mean – what? You want to sneak into the Prince's chambers? Without _permission_?

"Noir, what if we get caught?"

The Prince shrugged. He hadn't thought of that himself yet, but he assumed most of the guards were either guarding the gates or on leave for the night and were enjoying the ball themselves. The chance that they would actually be caught by a guard was small, but then again, there was Adrien's father…

He still had no idea where his father had gone, and thus the King could be anywhere in the Castle. Running into him dressed like two royal vigilantes would be the worst idea Adrien could possibly think of. If the King caught them, they would be kicked out of – if not banned from – the castle for sure, and then the Moth would have free play. But still, the Moth had to be caught, and the entire castle had to be taken into consideration as a possible hiding place. Besides, Adrien still had to unmask this obvious impostor, and the ability to sneak off into his chambers gave him an idea.

"We could always try," the Prince suggested. "I mean – I'm pretty good at sneaking about unnoticed. What about you?"

Queen Bee shrugged. Chloé always wanted to be the centre of the attention no matter what happened or where she went, so 'sneaking about unnoticed' wasn't exactly part of her list of skills. But for now, she just had to pretend that it was.

"I guess it's worth a try," Queen Bee lied. "I mean – we have a solid reason, with plenty of proof."

The Prince nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit," he said, and approached one of the castle walls. Strong veins grew across the castle's exterior, and one of the branches just so happened to pass right by his chambers.

Lucky Adrien hadn't closed his window that night.

"I'll climb up here," the Prince said, "and check if anything's going to get us into trouble. Once the coast is clear, I'll call you up."

Queen Bee bit her lip. She was going to have to climb up a castle's wall, and had to do so with nothing but a bunch of plants to help her? This was ridiculous! What if she fell, or her dress got damaged, or her hair got messed up? How was she to return to the party? Would her actual, non-enchanted-akuma-dress be affected by any damage caused to the akuma-dress?

But, if Queen Bee wanted her plan to succeed, she had to comply to everything this baboon of a boy came up with. At least, until the Moth gave her the signal to act.

 _He better hurry up with that signal_ , Chloe thought. _I'm losing my patience here._

She gave the Prince a quick, stiff nod of approval, and he set off to climb to the open window.

Adrien climbed up to his window as quickly as he could, but he still couldn't help but feel tired when he got there. He wasn't used to vigorous exercise.

He had to act quickly – this Lady-impostor would probably quickly run out of patience, and Adrien preferred not to let her out of his sight. Besides, his _real_ Lady was still out there, waiting, possibly in danger. And he had to find her. But that meant he'd have to expose this impostor first.

Adrien quickly slipped off the ring, calling off his transformation. Plagg appeared, looking tired.

"Whatcha doing that for?" Plagg asked. "There's still an hour left until the stroke of midnight. You haven't even found the Moth, let alone stopped him, and seem to have lost your Lady somewhere.

"Great going, Kid."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the insults for later," Adrien said, checking if the suit he'd put on before transforming was still proper. Of course it was – he almost looked just like a white version of his Miraculous suit – something he'd done on purpose, because he did like the way the suit looked, and thus had asked his tailors to make a similar design. Now, where had he left the mask?

"Alright, Plagg," Adrien said, as he grabbed the white mask from his desk, "I need your help."

"What is it now?" Plagg asked, sounding slightly annoyed. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I've been helping you all night long, Kid."

"It's an emergency, Plagg," Adrien snapped at the Kwami. "I need you to take your ring back and transform – shapeshift, whatever - into Prince Noir. That girl I left waiting down there is an impostor, probably sent by the Moth, and I need to expose her in order to find out what happened to the real Ladybug."

Plagg raised an eyebrow. "Transform into Prince Noir?" he asked, almost mockingly. "And you think I'm capable of doing that because…?"

"Oh for goodness' sake, Plagg!" Adrien cried out. "Don't tell me-!"

Plagg burst out in laughter. "I kid, Kid!" he chuckled. "Of course I can do that. But it has nothing to do with transforming by ring. I'll become your black-suited doppel right here and now."

Adrien still handed him the ring; he could not be caught carrying it around or wearing it. It was too suspicious, and perhaps the fake-Lady would not be fooled if she noticed the ring on Adrien's hand.

"Alright, Plagg, just pretend you're Prince Noir," Adrien said, fastening the mask behind his head. "Call that girl up here, like I'd just promised I'd do. I'll come walking into my chambers, pretending to be retreating from the party because of dizziness, and I'll then take it from there."

Plagg nodded. "Now, shoo," he said. "Watch the master actor at work."

Adrien snorted as he left the chambers. Oh, Plagg. As modest as ever.

Adrien checked the clock that hung in the castle's grand upstairs hallway. That whole ordeal, from climbing up to setting up his trap, took ten minutes clean off of his time. Fifty minutes until midnight. Fifty minutes until the Moth would disappear, until Adrien and his Lady were exposed.

Well, Plagg would vanish, and Adrien would be fine. The Lady would simply revert back to whatever she'd been wearing before transforming. As long as she was safe when she detransformed, no harm would be done.

Marinette had also noticed the time. Fifty minutes until midnight. Sabrina had not moved from her post in twenty minutes.

Marinette had to act quickly. She'd noticed Noir climbing up to one of the windows from afar, but had no idea what he was actually planning. Chloé followed him about five minutes after he'd entered the window. She took much longer to climb up than the Prince had, partially because her dress wasn't exactly fit for climbing. According to the clock, Marinette had spent twelve painful minutes looking at the ordeal before Chloé finally climbed into the window, the Prince helping her inside. Now there were only thirty-seven minutes left until midnight.

Time was running out.

"Sabrina, what is Chloé up to?" Marinette did not see the harm in letting Sabrina know who she was. Sabrina genuinely liked Chloé, despite being her servant, but Sabrina was nothing like Chloé at all. She wasn't a mean-spirited girl, just afraid of rejection – and of Chloé's ever-changing moods.

If Marinette showed her kindness, then perhaps she could motivate Sabrina into letting her go.

"I- I don't know," Sabrina said, turning to face Marinette, who was still sitting on the ground, skirt and arms bound. "I'm not supposed to talk to you." Then, her eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"

"We know each other," Marinette said. "From the town. We… we don't talk much, but I bet we could be friends if it wasn't for Chloé constantly mocking about."

Sabrina nodded. "Really?" she said. "You'd want to be friends with me? Chloé always tells me no one would want to be friends with me, because I'm a servant, and servants aren't supposed to speak to people unless they're ordered to."

Marinette couldn't help but grind her teeth. Chloé treated Sabrina even worse than Marinette already suspected. Sabrina needed to learn to stand up for herself, beside the fact that she was paid to serve Chloé and her family.

"Then Chloé is wrong," Marinette stated. "You too have the right to speak, Sabrina. Don't let Chloé tell you otherwise. Chloé is just using you and treating you poorly."

Sabrina's eyes widened. "Oh, no!" she said. "She's not always mean! She can be kind sometimes, really. She's even told me because I would not ever have anyone else, she'd be my friend, so I wouldn't be alone."

Marinette rolled her eyes. If that had to be an example that displayed Chloé's kindness, then it was a very bad example.

"Chloé's not always right, Sabrina," Marinette told the redhead. "It's important that you become your own person. Stand up against Chloé sometimes! If you don't like something she does, tell her!"

Sabrina tilted her head. "Well, she often does do things I'm not always happy with…" She scanned Marinette's body. "Like… like this. It's not fair to you. Love should be fair game."

Marinette smiled. "Then take a stand," she said. "Express your opinion. Make it loud and clear."

Sabrina was hesitant. Her feet shuffled underneath her heavy purple dress, and her eyes were locked on the ground.

Then, her head moved up. Sabrina had made up her mind.

"Thank you for your advice," she said. "You remind me of our town's baker's girl… she's kind."

Marinette smiled. "Then talk to her," she said. "She'd probably not mind at all to be your friend."

Sabrina nodded. "I- I'll try," she said, as she knelt down to release Marinette's arms. Then, she untied the rope around her legs and helped the Lady stand up.

"Thank you, Sabrina," Marinette said. "Now, I have to go – Chloé may be putting Prince Adrien in great danger.

"Oh, my," Sabrina gasped. "She probably doesn't know that… she'd never want to hurt Adrien."

Marinette nodded. "I'll take that into account," she smiled, and ran off, making sure to lift up the hem of her dress as she went. She had no time to tear her dress and twist her ankle.

The Lady Impostor had taken twelve minutes to get up to the Prince's chambers. Adrien was frustrated beyond measure. Thirty-seven minutes to expose this impostor-girl, find the real Ladybug, track down and stop the Moth! It was a mission impossible, and Adrien feared he'd have to accept defeat – and his possible kidnapping.

As soon as he heard the Impostor's voice on the other side of the door, Adrien entered the chambers, pretending to be surprised to see the two fake superheroes in his room. The girl was locking the window, and Plagg pretended not to notice.

The Impostor probably intended to trap Plagg in the bedroom so the Moth could come in and steal his ring.

"Excuse me?" Adrien asked. "Who are you two?"

Chloé's heart skipped a beat. Adrien. Right in front of her. She instantly forgot about her mission, and nearly fell over her own feet and the hem of her dress as she hurried towards him.

"Good evening, Your Highness," she said, "I am here to save your life. This boy here -" she pointed at Plagg, disguised as Prince Noir – "wanted to kidnap you, in the name of a notorious villain, who is rumoured to be hiding somewhere in this very castle."

Adrien raised his eyebrows, quickly eyeing the clock. Thirty-two minutes. He had no time for this charade.

"Well… thank you," Adrien said. "I suppose I should tell father and have the guards take this man outside."

"And I will stay by your side," the Impostor said. "No harm will come to you, I promise. I possess magical earrings, and their magic will protect both of us."

Adrien nodded. "Right. Great."

And of course, the Impostor locked the chamber door on their way out.

Thirty minutes. The Lady had less than thirty minutes to make her way up to that window and expose Chloé.

Then again, there wasn't really a point in going up there. The Prince and the Impostor were probably already off to somewhere else in the castle. The Lady decided to try and find the Moth on her own, and hope she'd run into Noir as she went.

By the time Marinette entered the ballroom again, nobody paid any attention to her. Everyone was drunk and too busy with themselves to pay attention to anyone sneaking off to someplace they weren't supposed to be.

There weren't even any guards guarding the doors that lead to other places in the castle. This was almost too easy.

Twenty-five minutes. Marinette really had to hurry – she'd promised Tikki she'd leave fifteen minutes before midnight.

She heard voices coming down the stairs and quickly ducked for cover. It was the Impostor and the Prince – the _real_ Prince.

"Your Highness, You're safe now!" the Impostor said. "You can't spare five minutes for a dance?"

The Prince's eyes shifted to the corner where Marinette was hiding; he noticed something from the corner of his eye, and when he gave it a better look, he was relieved to find the girl he'd been looking for. She was safe.

"You know what?" he told the Impostor. "Give me ten minutes. Wait in the ballroom. I'll be right there to dance with you."

Chloé couldn't help but let out an excited squeal. "Yes!" she said. 'Thank you, Your Highness!" She then ran down the stairs, off into the ballroom. The Prince headed for his Lady's hiding spot. He quickly figured she wouldn't recognise him as Prince Noir but as the actual Prince, and thus he decided to stay in that persona.

"Hello there," he asked the Lady, "what are you doing here by yourself? Are you hiding from someone?"

"I…" Marinette mumbled. "Well… I was looking for a friend. I can't find him anywhere, and I have to leave soon."

The Prince smiled. She was looking for him, too. Again, he remembered Marinette. Had she accepted his invitation or not?

Could this girl be her? Or was the Impostor Marinette, and were their dresses just very similar, and had he misjudged her?

"I had a mission," the Lady sighed, defeated. "And I failed."

"Are you talking about the Moth?" the Prince said. "I heard the rumours… are you the one trying to catch him?"

Marinette's eyes shifted upwards. He knew?

"Yes," she said, "and the boy I was with… I'm afraid we were both compromised at some point. By… that girl you just sent into the ballroom."

Adrien raised an eyebrow. The Impostor was the one who'd apprehended his Lady? Then there was no way the Impostor could be Marinette. Could she be?

"The Moth will be back another night," the Prince said. "I don't think he'll be striking tonight… not if he's dependant of that girl.

"He knows he's not getting what he wants tonight, so he'll try again tomorrow."

"But there won't be a ball tomorrow," the Lady said. "Why would he come back?"

The Prince smiled. "The ball will last three nights," he said. "I haven't had a chance to find the right girl – or at least, I think I have, but I need to spend more time with her to be sure."

Marinette nodded slowly, feeling her heart sink. He'd found a girl, and it wasn't Marinette.

The clock struck. Eleven fourty-five. Fifteen minutes.

"Go," the Prince said. "You said you had to go, so go. Your friend won't mind."

"Are you sure?" Marinette asked. The Prince nodded.

"I'll find him and tell you you're safe," he said. "You'll meet up again tomorrow, and then you'll stop that Moth. Promise?"

Marinette nodded. "Promise."

"Now, then, go!" the Prince shouted, taking Marinette's hands as he guided her to the castle's grand exit. "And be well!"

Marinette nodded, thanked the Prince, and hurried to her carriage.

Tonight had been special, but her mission hadn't been completed yet. Tomorrow, she'd try again.

The Prince reluctantly made his way to the ballroom. Ten minutes. Ten minutes until the Impostor would reveal herself.

Part of Adrien hoped that it was Marinette, that she'd come to the ball, but the thought of the girl having such an awful personality deep down hurt him deeply.

The Impostor was waiting for him by the ballroom's entrance. She dragged him onto the dance floor and the two danced, but it was nothing like the dance the Prince had shared with the Lady earlier that night. Everyone seemed to know that he was the Prince, and thus everyone had stopped to look at them – but the Prince wished they hadn't.

The Impostor had no sense of rhythm. Her footwork was clumsy and she got easily agitated, the Prince could tell.

At long last, the moment the Prince longed for came – the song ended. Five minutes.

"Well?" the Impostor said. "Don't you have something to say to the ball attendants, Your Highness?"

"I do," Adrien said. "I do." He walked towards the steps that would lead to the elevated platform where his and his parents' thrones stood, catching everyone's attention for sure now. The Impostor followed her eagerly.

Suddenly, the Prince noticed his father sitting in his throne, not looking too happy.

"Father?" Adrien asked. His father nodded stiffly.

"Go ahead," he said. "Is this the girl you've chosen? Announce her to the audience." He glared at the girl, and she couldn't help but feel as though the King held a grudge against her.

Adrien turned to the audience and eyed the grand clock. Three minutes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my future subjects," the Prince spoke. "Tonight, I was tasked with finding a Queen. And I found her."

The audience clapped and cheered. They seemed truly happy for Adrien – despite the fact that most of the attendants were candidates who were let down that they weren't chosen. The Impostor smiled arrogantly, and Adrien couldn't help but smirk too. Oh, if she only knew.

"Unfortunately, this girl beside me is not the girl I am talking about," he said, secretly hoping that the Lady had stayed behind to hear his speech. The audience gasped in horror, and the Impostor threw him an angry glare. "The girl I am talking about is no longer present tonight. This girl by my side, however, pretended to be that girl. Tried to take her place… and now she will reveal her true identity.

And the Prince was right. The clock struck for the first time, and the Impostor was surrounded by dark sparkles. By the sixth strike, the sparkles vanished, and by the twelfth strike, a white butterfly flew up into the ballroom, originating from the Impostor's hairpiece. Adrien instantly recognised her as Chloé.

"Chloé Bourgeois," Adrien said, "I retract your invitation. You are not welcome tomorrow night and the final night of the ball."

Chloé's eyes began to water. "No!" she yelled. She stared at the crowd below her, who couldn't help but snicker and laugh. Chloé did not know whether to be sad or angry, but she did know that she had to get out of there – which was exactly what she did.

The other ball attendants laughed at her as she ran past them. That was a mistake she wouldn't make twice.

Adrien smiled at his father. "Justice has been served, father," he said. "Don't worry, I've found a girl… I'll keep talking to her tomorrow night. I'm nearly sure she's the one."

His father nodded approvingly, although his mind was somewhere else. His mission hadn't been completed tonight; recruiting that girl had been an obvious mistake.

He'd have to try again tomorrow.


	10. Chapter 10: A Second Strategy

**Chapter Ten**

 **A Second Strategy**

Marinette just made it into her room by the time the earrings' magic ran out. She shut the door to her room, only to turn around and find Tikki lying on her bed, looking exhausted.

"Are you alright?" Marinette asked the Kwami, the tone of her voice expressing worry. Tikki sat up and smiled at the girl.

"Of course, Marinette," she smiled. "It's just the 'price' Kwamis pay for using their magic. We're drained every time our magic runs out. Don't worry, I'll be back up and ready to go by morning." She showed Marinette a cheeky grin.

"So, tomorrow's the second ball, huh?"

Marinette looked at the ground, nervously shuffling her feet. "I'm sorry we didn't get eyes on the Moth," she said. "But we do know he's around now – he shared his powers with someone so they could take me out. She took Chat out, too -" she paused briefly when she heard herself use such a stupid nickname for Prince Noir "- she was after the Prince, but not in the way the Moth intended her to be."

Tikki let out a sigh. "Of course he'd abuse Nooroo's power… She's a very powerful Kwami, and when used in the wrong way, her powers can do great damage." She looked Marinette straight in the eye.

"Marinette, now you and… _Chat_ know what you're up against. Don't allow the Moth to use innocent bystanders to get what he wants."

Marinette nodded, confirming that she understood the importance of the situation, but failed to hide a yawn from Tikki's sight.

"You must be exhausted, too," Tikki chuckled. "I completely forgot how much of a wild night you must've had."

Marrinette nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I've never seen anything like it…"

Tikki nodded and got up from the bed, inviting Marinette to take her place. Marinette took the invitation gladly, and allowed herself to fall onto the bed. She was gone before she even hit the pillow.

* * *

Plagg had detransformed back to his normal self and lay on Adrien's bed breathing heavily when Adrien returned to his chambers. He felt bad for Chloé, but then again, perhaps, she'd got what she deserved.

Adrien let out a disappointed sigh as he tore the mask from his face and tossed it in a corner. Then, he sat down beside Plagg.

"What's the matter, Kid?" Plagg asked. "Didn't have fun tonight, did you?"

Adrien shrugged. "That's not it," he said. "I was having fun, while being beside the Ladybug Princess. We even danced. But… it went wrong as soon as we actually started to focus on the mission you gave us." Another deep sigh escaped from the boy's lips. "Perhaps I'm not fit to do this, Plagg. And perhaps the Lady thinks the same way."

"Don't say that, Kid," Plagg said. "Master Fu chose you two for a reason. Just because things didn't go right straight away, doesn't mean you're inherently bad at it. Rome wasn't built in a day, you know."

Adrien accepted Plagg's argument. "But still," he said, "I'm just a teen, and this Moth is obviously an adult. He managed to turn someone I know against me. She'd never been the kindest character, but then again, I'm pretty sure she'd never go this far on her own.

"Partially because she could never do this on her own, but… there's a good person inside of her. And one day she's going to show there is."

"That's what the Moth does, Kid," Plagg said. "He darkens hearts, basically possesses them. The people who are affected by his Akuma become disillusioned and aggressive. He'll be using people you care about to hunt you down and turn in your ring."

"Well, I won't let him," Adrien proclaimed. "What if he possesses father? Or Nino, the stable boy?" It struck Adrien that he'd forgot to check up with Nino that night. Surely he'd get an earful from him the next morning.

"I won't allow people I care about to get in harm's way, Plagg," Adrien said, motivated to stop the Moth once again. "I'll do whatever I can to stop the Moth and free your friend, I promise.

"If I free yours, I'll free mine."

Plagg nodded. "That's the spirit, Adrien," he said, and got up off the bed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, you should get some beauty-sleep, while I raid the kitchen. Preparation for tomorrow night."

Adrien snorted and rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smirk. "Sure, Plagg. Just make sure you don't get caught."

"Also, keep that ring with you," Plagg said, tossing the ring at Adrien. It landed on his chest.

"You don't want anyone else finding it and discovering what it is, Kid. Trust me."

After that, the Kwami left the room. Adrien put the ring on his finger and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be different, he knew it.

* * *

Marinette felt exhausted when she woke up. The sun was already high up in the sky, indicating that it must've been around noon when she finally opened her eyes.

Marinette rushed down the stairs, her ponytails messy and uneven.

"Dad!" she shouted, approaching her father in the bakery.

"Dad, I'm so sorry, I overslept," she told her father. "I'll get on with the deliveries straight away."

Her father smiled away her concerns. "Morning, pumpkin," he said. "Don't worry about the deliveries, your mother will be filling in those for you for the next few days. We heard there'll be two more nights to the ball, so we figured you'll be far too tired to work." He winked at her. "Didn't think we could plan ahead, now did you?"

Marinette opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't come up with one at all. "I – I don't have to work?" she asked.

"Nope," her father confirmed. "Until the ball is over, you'll be a Princess. I mean, you were specially invited, weren't you, Princess Dupain?" He winked again.

Marinette chuckled and curtsied. "Why, thank you, Your Majesty," she said. "I am very honoured to be blessed with this gift thee hath bestowed upon me."

Tom ruffled his daughter's hair. "Don't talk like that again, alright?" he said. "You'll become too fancy for my own good."

Marinette chuckled and walked away. When she'd exited the bakery and returned to the living room of her home, she began thinking of things to do that day. It'd been a long time since she hadn't done the deliveries, because she enjoyed doing them as a child and had been doing them ever since. She hadn't felt this sense of priority-less, responsibility-vacant freedom.

Marinette considered a chat with Tikki might be the best idea. Perhaps she could gather more information on the Moth and use it against the man come nightfall. Last night had proved to Marinette that she and Chat – she secretly hated that nickname, but then again, Prince Noir was such a mouthful all the time, and his costume did resemble that of a black cat - needed to come up with at least a somewhat solid strategy in order to get the best of the Moth.

Of course, Marinette couldn't contact Chat during the day, as she had no idea who he was, but it could allow her to plan ahead and involve Chat in her plan later that night. And all the little kitty would have to do was play along. The Princess had it all covered.

Marinette smirked and headed up to her room, only to exit at nightfall.

The second ball was minutes away from commencing. Of course, everyone now knew what Adrien's suit looked like, but they still had no idea who Prince Noir was – except that he'd been part of the striking pair that had overtaken the dance floor the previous night. The Lady held the same status. And still, they somehow managed to enter the castle unseen that night.

"My Lady, there you are," Prince Noir said, welcoming his partner in crime with open arms. "I'm glad to see you safe and sound after what happened last night."

"Same here," the Lady said, smiling at her companion. "That girl got the best of us… I wonder what happened to her after I left."

"Oh, she got a fitting punishment when the Prince found her out," Prince Noir told his Lady. "She ran out of the ballroom crying her eyes out."

Marinette bit her lip, a pang of pity for Chloé going through her heart. Of course, the girl was as obnoxious and spoiled as she could possibly be, but she had been used like a puppet in the Moth's game. Perhaps the Prince had been too harsh on her.

Then again, Chloé had a tendency to cry crocodile tears and stamp her tiny feet when things didn't go her way, so perhaps this was just that.

"Well, I hope she's learned her lesson," the Lady replied. "Don't trust villains, let alone side with them – you'll never achieve your goals that way."

Prince Noir nodded approvingly. "Affirmative, My Lady."

The duo had made mistakes last night, and those mistakes had lead to their mission failing. Beginner's mistakes, easily avoided, but they were made, and nothing would change that. The Lady and the Prince simply had to put their mistakes from the previous night behind them, learn from them and prepare for the night that was to come.

And even if they didn't succeed tonight, there'd be a third night. Which also meant a possible night to simply have fun as two regular ball guests, if the Moth got caught tonight. Something Marinette could certainly live forward to; a night of mindless, luxurious fun would be a proper reward for catching a dangerous magically armed criminal.

After all, thanks to the Moth's decisions last night, the Lady and the Prince held a slight advantage over him. Marinette had gathered, however little, more information from Tikki, and the Moth had shown off his most important feature the night before.

He'd given away his biggest secret straight away, while the Lady and the Prince had managed to keep all of theirs – the Moth had no idea what he was really up against, because he'd simply sent someone else he thought would be able to do his dirty work for him.

Guess he was wrong. And Marinette would not let the opportunity of using the Moth's mistake to her advantage pass her by; she'd grasp it firmly, and use it to its full extent.

"So?" Prince Noir asked his Lady. "Tonight's our second chance. Any ideas on how we're going to do this?"

"I actually do," the Lady said. "I've come up with a plan throughout the day – my Kwami was able to provide me with plenty of helpful information about the Moth."

Adrien smiled. His Lady was so clever.

"Well, tell me," Prince Noir said, "because I'm all ears."

It might've just been Marinette's height that disallowed her to see the top of Prince Noir's head properly, but she could've sworn his cat ears turned back and forth as he spoke, taking the girl out of the moment for a brief second.

"Yes," she said, returning to the here and now. "The plan. The plan to stop the Moth. The plan I specifically created to stop the Moth…" She had to refuse the urge to slap herself in the face, and cleared her throat theatrically. "Yeah. So…"

She motioned for Prince Noir to follow her to a silent corner of the castle, near the entrance – most guests had made their way inside the ballroom, and the duo could talk freely.

"Alright, Chat," the Lady said – Marinette almost bit her tongue for using that stupid nickname again – "I need you to listen to me, and listen closely. The plan's success or failure depends on your capability to listen to me."

Adrien nodded, tilting his head slightly. It was almost as if the Lady was suggesting that Prince Noir would get distracted and mess something up. If that were true, it hurt Adrien slightly, but he decided to push it aside and chalk it up to the Lady being nervous and overly determined to succeed tonight. Obviously, she'd put a lot of time in this plan she'd come up with.

"Don't worry, My Lady," he told her, "I'll do anything you say. In fact, I'd trust you with my life."

"Bad decision, really," the Lady said, "although I appreciate the compliment.

"Now listen here and listen close, because this plan will be a tricky one to get right. I mean that if we fail, that might mean that the Moth will be victorious by midnight."

The Prince raised an eyebrow behind his mask. "Wait, what?" he said. "My Lady, what are you planning?"

The Lady smirked – both a smile of nervousness and confidence. "I'm going to give the Moth exactly what he wants, Chat," she said. She no longer cared about the nickname. "I'm going to surrender my Miraculous to him."

Adrien had to hold his breath.


	11. Ch 11: A Fox and an Illusioned Prince

**Chapter Eleven**

 **A Fox and an Illusioned Prince**

Unfortunately, Adrien couldn't hold his breath long enough to keep himself from expressing his utter displeasure with his Lady's plan.

"But My Lady," he said frantically, attracting the unwanted glances from bypassing guests, "that's insane! You can't do that!"

The Lady smiled, but her body language was slightly hostile. "And why not?" she inquired.

"The Moth," Prince Noir explained. "You've seen what he can do. What if he turns you against me? I don't want to fight you!"

The Lady smiled. "You won't have to," she said. "Trust me, I've got it all figured out...

"Our powers aren't the only ones that are limited to midnight, Chat."

Prince Noir's mouth opened, letting out a near inaudible gasp. "Oh..." It was as if he hadn't even noticed the dumb nickname his Lady had used to address him. "I see where you're going... so you're saying you want to trick him?"

The Lady had to refrain from rolling her eyes. "Yes," she said, "we're going to trick him."

Prince Noir rubbed his hands together. "Alright," he said, "I'm starting to like this plan. Tell me more."

* * *

The Moth was annoyed. His plan seemed perfect, but still, it'd failed the previous night. The girl had drifted from his orders and gone her own direction, and the Prince had intervened. That's what you get for allowing yourself to be distracted by a pretty face. Everything that had gone wrong the previous night made the Moth hesitant to pick another ball attendant to help him get what he needed. Still, the Moth considered having another pet, so to say, by his side to help him perform his plan. After all, it's only fair; there were two superheroes trying to take down the Moth, and he was on his own. Two against one isn't particularly fair, eh?

Of course, there was little different from the girl the Moth had chosen the previous night amongst the other guests to choose from. There was, however, one girl who seemed quite promising.

She was a fox. Or at least, her dress suggested she was. Her eyes were devious and green, and her brown hair had been done elegantly. The Moth had noticed her earlier that night, boasting about her accomplishments rather than her riches. And the Moth just so happened to have a suspicion that most of these acclaimed 'accomplishments' were simple white lies to make the girl look important.

The most interesting claim the girl had made, was that she knew the girl behind the ladybug mask _personally_.

"I'm sure of it," the girl said proudly to anyone who was willing to listen. "I know her. The girl behind the mask is my friend, she said she'd dress like a ladybug and impress everyone. Of course she's going after the Prince's heart! We decided to go in on our own, so we wouldn't know what we were dressed like, so we could compete in winning the Prince's heart."

She then grinned. "And I have to admit that I feel bad for her, but _I'm_ going to win. Especially if she just keeps hanging around that kitty-guy. I'm just saying... I won't lose this game."

The Moth believed he'd hit the jackpot. If this girl were truly a friend of the Lady's, which quite honestly, the Moth doubted she was, then she'd be far more useful than the previous girl had been. The Lady would trust the girl, and wouldn't suspect her intent until it was all too little, too late.

Or perhaps this girl was just incredible at lying – her life, or at least her persona at this party, was a lie.

And the Moth knew a perfect way to put that talent at play.

He drew another butterfly from his cloak, ready to transform it into another Akuma.

" _Mon petit Akuma_ ," the Moth whispered to the small creature. "I have a job for you. The Lady thinks she's in the middle of some fairy tale, and her happy ending is about to come true. It's time we teach her that sometimes, fairy tales are but an illusion."

The Akuma turned dark once more under the Moth's influence, and he let it loose, off to find its target. This time, the Moth would handle things slightly differently.

"Fly, my Akuma," he said, "and darken her heart. Turn her against the girl she claims to be such good friends with."

And the Akuma would do just that. The girl didn't even know what hit her; one moment, she was talking about how soon, she'd be Queen. The other, she stopped mid-sentence, turning away from the people she'd been talking to, leaving them behind utterly surprised as to where she was going. The surprise didn't last too long, however, because the guests returned to enjoying themselves and the party pretty quickly.

The girl knew where she was headed. The voice in her head gave her instructions.

She had to find the Lady and stop her. This girl was dangerous! She shouldn't be anywhere near the Prince. Nor that cat-boy, for that matter – or whoever he was. If the voice in her head was telling the truth, then everyone at the ball was in grave danger – and why would the voice tell her anything but the truth? Something about it... just felt so genuine.

But back to the matter at hand – Lila had no idea who this Ladybug was – she'd been telling lies all night just so people would think she was great. But now, someone had told her quite an interesting tale about this girl. She was a thief, suspected a violent one – and Lila had been chosen to stop her.

Of course the man, who had introduced himself to Lila as the Moth hadn't left her empty-handed. The girl found a flute in her purse, which transformed into quite the interesting weapon the moment Lila blew the first note. The weapon, the Moth explained, was a wand that could create illusions at Lila's commands – simply by playing musical notes. _Ah,_ Lila thought. _That's why it appeared as a flute at first._

Lila took the wand with gratitude, feeling as though she could finally do something good. She'd take down a criminal, and expose her for everyone to see.

 _The magic diminishes at midnight. I can embarrass the Lady by exposing her in front of all ball attendants – including the Prince. They will all see for who she really is – a con-woman._

* * *

"Have you noticed any possible Akuma-victims yet?" Adrien still felt at unease with the Lady's plan, despite the fact that he'd agreed to do his part. The Lady's plan had a low chance of success, and that's what worried Adrien. He didn't want to lose her to a villain – even if he'd just met her. He cared for her, and wanted to get to know her. If the Moth succeeded in his plans, then it was very much possible that 'getting to know each other' would be impossible for the Prince and his Lady.

"Not yet," the Lady responded. She, on the other hand, was far more confident that her plan would succeed. Yes, of course it would mean that Marinette would be revealing her true identity to everyone attending the ball including the Prince, but she was fine with that. There might be ball attendants who would scoff, but she'd be a hero, and thus there was probably at least one person out there who'd appreciate her and her efforts. And of course, Prince Noir's efforts, too.

Suddenly, something unusual caught Marinette's eye. There was a girl, dressed in an orange, fox-themed dress, beckoning her and – Chat.

"Wait," the Lady said, pointing at the girl in the fox-dress. "Look, there she is. Our Akuma-victim."

"Are you sure?" Prince Noir asked. "She might just be a fan of us. I mean – we were quite the celebrities last night."

The Lady threw Prince Noir an angry glare. "No jokes," she hissed. "This is serious. If we mess up tonight, we might mess up permanently, so keep it together, Chat."

"Sure, Bugaboo," Adrien responded. If they were starting to dish out horrible nicknames, then he had plenty to give. As for his Lady's response, if looks could kill, then Adrien would've dropped dead to the floor right that very moment. And it amused him very much.

"Ah, Ladybug," the girl said as she saw the unlikely duo approaching. "I am so glad to finally meet you." She smiled a honest smile – or so it seemed.

"You see?" Prince Noir said, offering his Lady a cheeky grin. "A fan. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"My name is not important," the girl said. "It's... Lila. But I signalled to you, Ladybug." The Lady raised her eyebrows, causing her mask to lift along with them.

"Me?"

Lila nodded. "The Prince wants to meet you."

A figure stepped out from behind a pillar. Both heroes' jaws dropped in surprise.

Adrien was looking at his own face. Dressed in the exact suit he'd worn the day before. Marinette was looking at the boy who'd helped her the night before, who'd given her the invitation to this ball.

Lila smiled. "He's quite the catch, isn't he?" she said. "Unfortunately, this is all you'll get to see... darling?"

The illusion-Prince nodded at Lila. "Of course, my future Queen," he said. Then, his face turned back to the Lady and Prince Noir, his expression cold. It sent a shiver down Adrien's spine. _Wrong again,_ he couldn't help but think it. _It's not that girl, either. I can't believe I'm actually saying that. But – it's not me. Is it?_

"Lila brought it to my attention that we have two thieves in our midst tonight," the Prince said. "Either you can come with me freely, or we'll have to make this public."

The Lady shook her head. "You're mistaken, Your Highness," she said, "there is in fact a dangerous criminal out and about tonight, but it's not us. We're actually trying to stop him." Prince Noir stood by her side, nodding his head vigorously to confirm the Lady's claim. This Lila-girl was definitely Akumatised.

When the Lady noticed the Prince wasn't believing her words, she motioned to Prince Noir and began to back up, only to walk with her back against a wall.

How did that wall get there?

When the girl turned around, she noticed it was in fact, not a wall. It was a very tall man – one of the castle's guards.

"Alright," the Prince said, "it appears that our dear friend Gorilla here has to take you to the dungeon until my father can deal with you... which will be tomorrow morning at the earliest."

Both the Lady and Prince Noir tried to make a run for it, but the Gorilla grabbed one arm belonging to each teenager, keeping them in place.

"Your Majesty," the Lady shouted, "please! You have to believe us; we're not criminals! We're trying to help you, honestly!"

The Prince's expression didn't change. "If what you're saying is true, then you can explain yourself..." The Lady smiled. Too soon, unfortunately.

"...tomorrow, when my father decides whether to put you on trial or punish you as he sees fit. I'm sorry, but I don't want anyone potentially dangerous walking around this castle freely.

"I, as future King, must keep my people's safety and best interest in mind."

"And that's the right thing to do," Prince Noir said, "but right now, you're making the wrong decision regarding what's best for your people."

"Ah!" Lila let out an annoyed sound. "Don't listen to them, Adrien! Send them away!"

 _I would most definitely not let a girl like that boss me around,_ Adrien thought, grimacing. _She reminds me of Chloé for some reason._

"Of course, my sweet Lila," the Prince said. "Thank you so much for bringing this to my attention. You saved the Kingdom."

Lila smiled as she watched the Lady and Prince Noir get dragged off by the single guard. The first part of her plan had succeeded.


	12. Chapter 12: Self-Proclaimed Surrender

**Chapter Twelve**

 **Self-proclaimed Surrender**

The Lady and Prince Noir were tossed into a single cell without any sign of compassion coming from the guard who'd taken them there. If he hadn't promised to Plagg that he'd keep his identity a secret until the Moth was caught, Adrien would've taken the ring off his finger and prove his identity to his bodyguard before he'd even been given the chance to drag Adrien and his Lady to the dungeon.

Revealing himself now would put both the Prince and his Lady at risk. But – how else were they to get themselves out of this situation? That girl...

Adrien rubbed his chin. He'd hit the ground hard, but luckily he'd come out mostly unscathed. One sideways glance towards his Lady assured him that she was fine, too. Even her dress was completely clean – Adrien figured that the Miraculous provided some kind of protection for the wearer. That might include some advantage for the Lady and Prince Noir.

But for now, they had no advantages whatsoever – they were locked in a dark dungeon cell, with no one around to help them out of their situation. The Moth would probably arrive in minutes, to take their jewellery – Adrien figured the Moth would no longer need to kidnap him in order to get what he wanted, considering the Miraculous were now out and about. 'Up for grabs', so to say.

And even if they hadn't been up for grabs before, they sure were right now.

"So," Prince Noir said, letting out a nervous chuckle as he turned on his knees to face his Lady, "guess the Moth found someone who got the better of us, huh? That girl got us good..."

"She got us good," the Lady responded, "but we'll get her better." She was on her knees, struggling slightly under the weight of her skirt to get up. Adrien quickly hurried over to help her up.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, receiving a cheeky grin in return.

"I just looked at the lock, and I got an idea," she said. "I'm not sure if it'll work, but it's worth a try. All we need is a little bit of luck... a lucky charm."

Adrien still didn't get it, but things became clearer when the Lady reached for her hair and pulled out a pin. Her hair remained up because of the red ribbon, but the ribbon sank a little to the left due to its weight. The pins were simply meant to support the red accessory. The Lady made a couple steps forward – as far as she could, given the size of the small cell – and leaned forward towards the lock.

"You're going to pick that?" the Prince asked. "You... really _aren_ ' _t_ a thief, are you? Just trying to make sure."

The Lady threw him a glare and rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not a thief." A sigh followed. "I have a friend who's lost the key to a chest with things that are very important to her multiple times, and I've helped her open it without using the key multiple times." She paused working on the lock to smile. "She's found the key again, though. I... think."

Prince Noir nodded. "Interesting... and good for her. I think."

The Lady didn't respond. She was too busy trying to pick the lock. She held her ear as close to the lock as her position would allow, listening for signs that she was pushing the pins in the right position. Marinette had to concentrate; if she accidentally broke the hair pin, it'd be stuck inside the lock – and the Lady and Prince Noir would be stuck inside this cell all night. It was of the utmost importance that that didn't happen.

Finally, Marinette heard the sound she'd been waiting for; the sound of the lock clicking open.

"Got it!" she said, smirking at Prince Noir. As soon as he realised the lock was open, his mouth curled up into a broad smile.

"You did it! I knew you could do it, My Lady!" he said. "I could kiss you right now!"

Marinette had to blink twice to process what Prince Noir had just told her. Then, she burst out laughing.

"Alright, it's really not that funny," Prince Noir said. Adrien felt slightly embarrassed about that uncontrolled outburst. "Let's... let's just go now, alright? We've got a mission to complete, remember?"

The Lady nodded, giving the cell door a push so that it swung open. "I didn't forget," she said. "So follow my lead, Romeo, and we'll be able to enjoy the third night of this ball as regular guests."

Romeo. Another uncanny nickname. But Adrien put his feelings aside and followed his Lady out of the cell, back to the ballroom, back to their mission.

The clock struck. Half an hour until midnight; apparently, they'd taken longer to find the Akuma-victim and to get thrown into a cell than either the Lady _or_ Prince Noir had anticipated. They had to hurry.

Luckily, the Lady's plan could be executed in minutes, and the closer it was to midnight, the larger the chances were of the plan actually succeeding. For now, it was important that the Lady and Prince Noir got out of the dungeons and back to the ballroom without being noticed. If they were caught, they'd probably get in more trouble than they already were.

The Lady and Prince Noir were in luck. The Gorilla had better things to do than keep watch of two seemingly innocent kids. Even if they were thieves, what were they going to steal? Neither of the two children seemed all that strong. Adrien was a thin seventeen-year-old, and so was Marinette. To the Gorilla, they seemed like nothing special.

But then again, the Gorilla didn't know about the magical jewellery the teenagers carried, and thus the Gorilla missed out on a most special fact.

Lucky Lady and Noir.

The castle halls were deserted, just as they'd been the night before. Marinette couldn't help but think about her plan. Would it work? The Moth would have to be quite the vain man for this plan to work... but he'd be exposed to the entire kingdom.

And so would Marinette and Prince Noir. But that was simply the price of freedom and safety for all citizens – those who were attending the ball tonight and those who were at home.

* * *

"Right this way, Master Moth."

"You've done a very good job, my little Akuma. When it comes to illusions, you are a true artist."

"Of course I am. I thrive off illusions – I can make anyone believe what I want them to."

Lila had proudly reported to the Moth as soon as the Gorilla had reported back to her – the Lady and Prince Noir had been caught successfully, and the Moth would have the honour of taking their jewellery. Soon, he'd be the most powerful man on the planet.

He'd be King no more... he'd be a god.

But when Lila and the Moth arrived at the cell where the Gorilla had claimed to have put the Lady and her accomplice, the Moth found an empty cell, door open.

"Lila," the Moth asked, "what is this?" Lila could tell by the tone of his voice that the Moth was boiling with rage deep inside, but somehow his exterior was capable of staying unsettlingly calm.

"I don't know, Master," she responded. "I mean – I saw them. I tricked that gorilla of a man with an illusion the Prince. The illusion ordered him to take the two to the dungeon, and that's exactly what he did." She paused and bit her lip. "They must've escaped."

The Moth's hands were shaking. Clearly, his patience was running out and his calm facade was minutes away from breaking down.

"If they escaped," he said, "then that means they're somewhere inside the castle. GO FIND THEM!"

Lila jumped. She curtsied towards the Moth, making multiple apologies before and while she ran away, off to find the Lady and Prince Noir. She had to find them, and fast – there were only twenty minutes left until midnight.

The Moth stayed behind. He needed some time to cool down. Five minutes were enough, and by the time he returned to the ballroom, there were fifteen minutes left until midnight. He heard the clock begin to chime as he set foot outside the dungeon. Three more had passed by the time he'd found the entrance to the ballroom again.

And there was something going on. The Lady and her black-suited accomplice stood on the balcony above the thrones, looking the Moth right in the eye. The ball attendants made way for the Moth, forming a path in front of him.

"Please, Hawk Moth," the Lady said, "come closer. We wish to talk."

"Very well," the Moth said, making good use of the path the ball attendants had created for him. These children had gained the full attention of the massive crowd, and had probably managed to tell them exactly what was going on. So much the Moth could tell from the silent gasps some members of the crowd let out as he passed them.

The Moth didn't know where his Akuma was. He didn't care, either, honestly – but he could use her as leverage. If the two self-proclaimed 'heroes' on the balcony held the girl hostage, he could pretend that he intended to save her. That would make the Lady and her Prince seem like the bad guys. At least, to some extent. But that wasn't necessarily the Moth's intention.

"Where is she?" he asked. "Where is that darling Lila? If you hurt her... you'd be no better than me."

"Don't worry," Prince Noir said. "We haven't even so much as touched her. Simply... subdued her."

"Leave her out of this," the Moth said. "If you know what's going on, then you also know she's an innocent victim."

"We are aware," the Lady said. "But we know you are holding the Prince and his father hostage somewhere." Pure bluff. Initially, Marinette thought the Prince had been subdued by the girl, who'd now been reintroduced to her as Lila, but after ambushing the girl from behind, she and Prince Noir learned the truth. The Prince hadn't been there at all; it'd been an illusion, created by a magical flute the Moth had given the Fox.

That gave Marinette an idea to give her plan a spin. A spin that would assure her and Prince Noir's safety just that much better than her original plan.

The Moth decided to play along, smirking underneath the heavy mask that concealed the entirety of his face, save for the mouth. "I do," he said. "And you also know what I wish for their ransom."

"We do, Moth," Prince Noir said. Adrien had no idea where his father was – but if he was safe, then his father was probably, too. He didn't like the Lady's original plan, but this new one, he liked. It was fun.

The Moth was about to receive a taste of his own medicine. "In return for the King and his son's freedom, we are prepared to give you what you desire. We will be coming down to you in a minute..." He quickly eyed the clock. "There's eight minutes until midnight left. We wish to make the exchange in three minutes."

"That's fine," the Moth said. It wouldn't matter. Five minutes would be more than enough. He'd be long gone by the time midnight struck.

His plan would be executed in the morning, when he'd regained his energy from being up all night.

The duo kept a close watch of the clock – in fact, everyone in the ballroom did. When three minutes had passed, the Lady and Prince Noir began descending the steps that led to the balcony. A minute. Another to approach the Moth, who had stopped to speak to the Lady halfway through the ballroom. The Moth noticed that the Lady and her accomplice were taking their time. But even three minutes would be more than plenty for the Moth.

They stood in front of him. Prince Noir bowed, the Lady curtsied. The boy reminded the Moth of his own son in some way.

The Moth began losing his patience. Two minutes and thirty seconds.

"I believe we had a deal," the Moth said through gritted teeth. The Lady nodded.

"Of course," she responded. "We do, Hawk Moth. Do not fear." Two minutes. "You will get what you deserve."

They waited another thirty seconds, every second feeling like an eternity. One minute. The Lady's hands began to move towards her earrings.  
"First, I will remove the Ladybug Miraculous," she said, as she began to move the stud that kept the first earring in place backwards. She held the jewel safely in her palm as she moved to do the same to the next.

Fourty-five seconds. The Moth could start to feel beads of sweat running down his neck.

"Now, I'll remove my ring," Prince Noir said. Fourty seconds. The Moth held both his hands out, eager to receive the earrings.

"Where can we find the King and his son?" Prince Noir asked.

"I'll tell you, I promise," the Moth said. "Please. Give me the Miraculous and I'll tell you everything I know." Of course, the Moth knew nothing. And that was exactly what he'd tell these two utterly naive children.

The Lady and Prince Noir nodded. Thirty seconds. They placed the jewellery in the Moth's palms, but he did not feel their weight. As soon as the Moth closed his gloved palms and opened them again, both the Miraculous were gone. And so were the Lady and Prince Noir.

"WHAT?!" the Moth bellowed. "I'VE BEEN TRICKED!"

The ball attendants held their breath as they redirected their attention towards the figures that had appeared on the balcony. They'd hid themselves in the back and had remained unseen by the Moth.

The Lady and Prince Noir. And the Lady held the Fox's flute in her hands.

"Nice toys you give to your victims, Hawk Moth," she said, smirking at the man who was caught in a fit of rage down below. "I'd almost want to become one.

"I'm sorry... but it's time to show everyone who you are. Who we are. The masks are coming off."

The Moth bared his teeth angrily, wanting to shout at this girl, who had managed to patronize him. Then, he was distracted from his anger by the sound of a clock.

Twelve O'clock.

The Moth was frozen in place, and even if he hadn't been, the crowd had closed him in. His adversaries displayed no desire to run.

As the clock struck for a last, twelfth time, all three their identities had been revealed. Some ball attendants screamed. Others fainted.

A Prince and a baker's daughter stood on the balcony, and stuck between the crowd stood... a King.


	13. C13: Prince and Princess, King and Queen

**Chapter Thirteen**

 **Prince and Princess, King and Queen**

"Father. I... I can't believe this." Adrien's expression was utterly heartbroken.

Some ball attendants had expressed their anger in words, some had tears streaming down their cheeks. No one paid attention to the fact that a peasant had been attending a royal ball for the past two days. All eyes were focused on the King who had betrayed his people.

"Adrien..." Gabriel Agreste's voice was raspy and shocked. "I... you don't understand."

"In fact, Father, I think I understand quite well," Adrien said, refusing to listen to what his father had to say. "What were you planning on doing? What were you doing? Why?

"Why, Father, why?"

Gabriel Agreste bit his lip. "I... I did it for you. For your mother."

"She wouldn't have wanted you to become like this," Adrien said. "No matter where she is, whatever happened. She would've wanted you to remain a honest man. You're abusing magic. You're using magical creatures for your personal gain. Mother wouldn't want your help if you had blood on your hands. You know that."

The silence was icy. And Gabriel Agreste was the one to break it.

"I don't have blood on my hands, Adrien," he said, sounding like his old self again. "I haven't hurt anyone."

"YOU HAVEN'T _HURT_ ANYONE!?" Adrien's voice echoed through the ballroom. Marinette couldn't stop him; the boy, now clad in a white suit, stormed down the balcony's steps, throwing off his mask. "YOU DID, FATHER! You _did_!" Tears streamed down his face. "Plagg told me everything! You're hurting Nooroo! Miraculouses aren't supposed to be used for evil! And what about Chloé, and Lila, whom you used to fulfil your plan? What about me? What about _her_?" Adrien turned, realising he hadn't even looked at his Lady's true identity yet. When he saw the girl and recognised her face, his head turned as red as a beet. Hers had been just as red all the while.

" _Marinette_..." Adrien's mouth formed the word without saying it. He smiled at her, through his tears, she smiled back. Then, he turned back to the matter at hand – dealing with his father.

"I'm sorry, Father," Adrien said – the guards had already approached the whole situation, ready to take away their former King. "But you have to stand trial for this. I can't let this pass." He paused, but when his father was about to speak, he quickly continued. "Even _though_ My Lady and I were able to stop you and prevent anything truly bad from happening, you should be punished the crimes you _have_ committed over the past two nights." It broke Adrien's heart to have to say this to his father, but if he let this slide, then he'd ignore justice. His father had to be punished.

Adrien watched as his father was dragged away by his own guards. When the ballroom doors closed and Adrien Agreste disappeared out of sight, voices began to rise in whispers.

"I'd like to say something," a boy's voice suddenly said. It was the stableboy, and knight-to-be, Nino Lahiffe. He'd been watching his best friend expose the King as a criminal, and after no one said anything, he stepped forward. His suit was emerald green, and the details on his mask slightly resembled a turtle. "Tonight's been a real mess. Especially the last five minutes." He stepped forward and approached Adrien. "But I believe that our Prince and this lovely lady saved us from a criminal."

People began whispering again, and Nino, refusing to be put off, continued to speak. "Yes, this criminal was our beloved King," he said, "but his son, our Prince, has shown that he's not like his father. And that's why I believe we can trust him as our King."

Nino smiled at his best friend. "Next ball, I'm joining you on your adventures," he said. "I feel envious right now."

Adrien grinned. "Sure thing," he said. "You're free to follow along."

"What do you say, citizens of Paris, people of France?" Nino shouted. "Will you accept Adrien Agreste, Crown Prince of France, as your King?"

It remained quiet for a few short moments, but then a voice came from the balcony.

"Long live the King!"

It was Marinette. And quickly, other ball attendants joined in. "Long live the King!"

Adrien's response caught everyone by surprise. "And long live the Queen!"

The crowd fell silent, as Adrien made his way back up the steps.

"Marinette," he said, as he approached the girl who stood frozen in place, "this ball had a purpose. Of course, that purpose was different from the 'advertised' purpose." He chuckled. "But that faux purpose was fulfilled tonight."

He smiled at his Lady. It was her. "Do you remember the invitation I gave you?" Adrien asked. Marinette nodded slowly.

"My father claimed that I'd be able to find a girl I wanted to marry in three nights. And I think I managed to do that in two," Adrien continued. "In these past two nights, I think I learned more about you than I could've done in years. In fact, I feel like I've known you for years."

Marinette smiled. "Perhaps we have," she said. "In another life..."

Adrien chuckled. "I agree with that statement," he said. "And thus..."

Adrien sank down on one knee. "Dear Marinette," he said, "will you become my Princess, and in a few years my Queen? Will you marry me?"

Marinette had no idea what to say. It all went a little too fast. But what she knew, was that her answer would be _yes_.

"Of course we don't have to get married right away," Adrien smiled, "but I do know that I want it to be you."

He slowly rose up and took Marinette's face in his hands. He leaned forward, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then, he did the same on her lips.

The ball attendants seemed to approve. "Long live King Adrien and Princess Marinette!" Marinette would be a Princess, but when the day came and Adrien slipped a ring on her finger, she'd be Queen of France.

Lila would wake up later that night in the cell she'd locked Marinette and Adrien up in. She'd be guided home by a guard and not be charged with any crimes.

Of course, there was a third night planned. And that night didn't go to waste; it was repurposed.

You might expect a wedding, and that wedding eventually happened, but several years later, when the young Prince and Princess felt they were ready.

That third night, Adrien was officially crowned King of France, and Marinette Princess.

The coronation was a grand party. Of course, the word had spread through Europe quickly, but the world leaders seemed to approve of France's decision to crown Adrien Agreste King after hearing the full story. The boy deserved so much. And these world leaders came from far and wide to attend the Prince's coronation simply to show this approval.

Marinette and Adrien's wedding was just as much of a large event. The King and Princess were loved greatly by France. Chloé stopped coming by the castle after a few years, possibly out of annoyance, but Sabrina came visiting more often. She showed to Marinette to have a truly kind heart, and the two girls were grateful for the way they'd acted on the first night – even though Sabrina didn't know she'd helped her Queen at the time.

Nino Lahiffe became a Knight, and Adrien's most trusted advisor. The young man didn't quite mind not having to go out into battle if he could advise his best friend from safe inside the castle.

Tom Dupain and his wife became royal bakers, their bakery busily visited by people from all over France – and the occasional tourist. Of course, they were proud of their now royal daughter, and their bond remained close, even if their sweet girl was now no longer living at home. Adrien and Marinette liked to visit her parents as often as they could.

As for Lila, she probably left the country, as she was never seen again. Whispers were going around that she'd left to find a new life in Italy. But know for sure, neither the King nor Queen did.

All they knew, was that they had their happy ending. At the same time, they had a happy beginning – because of course, their lives were only just beginning.

And they lived happily ever after.

 **The End**


End file.
